How Life Is
by RottenWeather
Summary: Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes met at university. They fell in love, married, got good jobs and had a family. The perfect life. But sometimes things don't quite turn out the way people plan them... Modern Chelsie AU - a joint venture between theoofoof and RhondaStar47
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** During a late night chat we started thinking about ideas concerning a married AU Chelsie - what if they'd met at university? What if they'd married and had children? What if life didn't turn out like they expected it to... And this story was born. It's the first time we've written together so we're still finding our feet - please do leave us a review to let us know how we're doing.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: How it began**

 **2010**

Tapping her fingers frustratedly on the steering wheel, Elsie Carson glanced for the fourth time at the digital clock on the dashboard; the red lights a harsh reminder that she was almost two hours late home.

"Come on, come on, come on," she muttered irritably at the waiting traffic in front of her.

In retrospect, it had been a mistake to agree to meet that last client so late in the day, but at the time she had been focussed on the prospective prominence that securing their company could bring. She was quite aware that her husband would not look upon her late arrival favourably. In fact, it seemed that of late they'd done nothing but snip and snipe at each other – it seemed she couldn't do anything right. Their arguments, though quite often beginning at different places, inevitably reached the same destination; her lack of presence in their home.

When they'd married thirteen years ago, almost as soon as they'd graduated, it had seemed like they'd had a lifetime of possibilities ahead of them – they'd planned to travel, both of their careers had been going well, Charles had quickly established his own accountancy firm, making good, steady money, and she was making headway in events management; finding a position as a junior consultant at a prestigious firm.

So it had been something of a shock to find, following the millennium celebrations, that she was already five months pregnant. She'd had no inkling; she hadn't been sick and her periods had always been irregular during times of stress – and establishing herself in a competitive market had certainly been a stressful time.

Of course, Charles had been over the moon, the idea of raising a family with her had been his dream since not long after they'd first met. In fact, during their first year together he'd proposed no less than three times. Each time she had put him off with sensible explanations as to why they should wait until after graduation. She wasn't averse to the idea but didn't think her father would react too favourably to her getting engaged whilst he was still paying for her education.

She'd been too far along in the pregnancy to have contemplated a termination (not that Charles would have even entertained the idea even if it had been a possibility) and when Mae had arrived, in May 2000, of course she'd fallen instantly in love. Nevertheless, it had meant a pause in her career that she hadn't been prepared for, and while she had had to halt her plans to start her own company, Charles' firm had gone from strength to strength. She didn't resent him for that; his savvy business acumen had meant their income had hardly dropped, even with her at home taking care of the baby.

When Mae was two, she'd started to make tentative plans to return to work and had even contacted prospective employers about positions. Her enthusiasm at the idea of returning to a job she loved had quickly been dashed when she'd unexpectedly fallen pregnant again – despite taking the necessary precautions. The first three months of her pregnancy had been marred by the friction between her and Charles. This time she had the option as to whether to continue with the pregnancy or not, though for Charles the idea of not having the child seemed abhorrent. For a long time, he'd kept his mouth shut, hoping that the shock of the pregnancy was what was driving her indecision and that as the pregnancy progressed, she would come to love the life growing inside her as much as he did.

As she approached the three-month mark, the arguments began. The thought of quitting a job she hadn't even returned to was driving her crazy and the thought of another three years trapped in her role of wife and mother scared her. She was still only young and all of this had happened so quickly, too quickly for her to process. Perhaps Charles didn't understand this. For him, adding to their family could only mean yet more joy and provide the stability and loving, familial unit that he'd craved since childhood. For her, it meant giving up, yet again, on her own dreams.

Very quickly, though, his arguments had swayed her and she put her own indecisiveness down to possible selfishness on her part. He'd also promised her that this time he'd cut back on work and they'd share the parenting duties so she could possibly return to her career, part time at least.

Their second child, Lily, arrived in July 2003 and it seemed their family was complete. Lily was the opposite to Mae, in fact she was her Father's child; with an even, easy going temperament and a love of the outdoors. Mae was very much Elsie; inquisitive, feisty when provoked and not afraid to speak her mind. It had taken Mae a while to get used to sharing her parents' affections, but despite this, and the differences in their personalities, the girls soon bonded and became the best of friends and closest of confidantes, a trait they still, thankfully, held some seven years later. Elsie would never have to worry about her daughters being without a best friend as they would always be there for each other. Something Elsie had never experienced with her own sister.

It would be almost five years (almost 7 since she'd left full-time employment) before Elsie finally had the chance to pursue her own interests. At first, she'd taken a part time position, working three days a week, but within a matter of months she'd been quite certain that her next move was to establish the company she'd always wanted. Charles had had little choice but to support her as the promises he'd made before Lily was born had not come to fruition. Neither of them, though, had quite expected her business to become the success it had in such a short time.

Finally pulling into the driveway, Elsie saw Charles standing at the bay window in the lounge. She almost lifted her hand to wave but then noticed his folded arms and stony demeanour. He was not happy. Steeling herself for the inevitable showdown that was to come, she swung her handbag over her arm and reached for her laptop bag before taking a deep breath and exiting the car.

* * *

At the familiar sound of her car tyres on the gravel driveway, Charles automatically glanced at his watch. 19.25. They had been due at the party at 18.00. Clearly she had forgotten, again.

Taking a steadying breath, he watched as she made her way up the drive and couldn't help the small feeing of pride that came as he noted the professional demeanour she now inhabited – the sharp suits, the elegantly styled hair, the success she was having. He'd have been able to enjoy it with her if it weren't for the impact it was having on their family life. He didn't want people to get him wrong, he was 100% behind her and always would be, he'd always be on her side, but the reality was right now he missed her; their daughters missed her.

"Hi," she said brightly, attempting to quell the storm. "I'm sorry I'm late, I got stuck in a meeting. Let me change and I'll make a start on dinner – unless you've already eaten?"

He watched as she put her bag down, hung her coat and slipped her heels off, and automatically moved to kiss his cheek. She noted the fact that even when she leant into him, he didn't remove his hands from his pockets. She placed her hands on his shoulders. "Sweetheart, don't be in a bad mood with me; it's been a long week and at least it's the weekend now."

Charles sighed heavily. "Does it occur to you that it's a little quiet in the house tonight, or have you forgotten completely that we have children?"

She removed her hands sharply from his shoulders and he noted the stoniness of her eyes at his flippant comment. "Do we have to keep playing these games?" she asked, rubbing her aching neck. "If you've got something to say to me, then just say it."

"Alright, I will." He took his hands from his pockets and gestured towards her. "If I'm honest with you I don't know where your head is at the moment… nor your heart… because you're certainly not here with us."

She took a step back, stunned by the harshness of his words. "That's uncalled for. You know the business is still in its early days. I can't afford to let things slip."

"I understand that. I've been there, remember?"

"I remember very well. I _was_ there, I supported you."

"You're making it impossible for me to support you because even when you're physically here, which let's face it is not very often these days, you're not really here with us, Elsie, are you?"

She sucked in a tight breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "Well, I guess there's not much more to say on that, is there?" She stared at him for a moment. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Hang on, haven't you even considered where they are, your two daughters, you do remember them?"

"Oh don't be so fucking sarcastic!" She marched up the stairs, pausing halfway to turn slowly and look back at him as her memory kicked in. "I've missed the party, haven't I?" she said guiltily, realisation dawning.

He gave her only a slight nod in response. "This was meant to be the start of our weekend. We were meant to be able relax there tonight, with our friends and their children and our children. I wanted to spend time with you, without arguing, without the distraction of work. The girls wanted that too."

"Don't do that to me." She pointed her finger at him. "Let's not forget it was you who promised that you'd be there when Lily was born. That my career wouldn't suffer, that we'd share it this time. And yet, I had five years alone in this house, whilst your career flourished."

"You know why it had to be that way. Robert had three children at home and Cora had suffered a devastating miscarriage. You know all the operations she had to go through after that. They're our friends; you're the one who told me that I'd needed to support him."

"Yes, support him, not disappear from my life." She took a couple of steps down towards him. "I needed you here with me as well. Do you have any idea how hard it is looking after two children under the age of five? Staring at the same four walls every day? I felt like I was losing my mind; I certainly wasn't using my brain."

"I was doing the best I could at the time; I was doing what I thought was right. If things were so bad, why did you never say?"

"I tried, but you were always so tired when you got home. I didn't want to be yet another drain on your time."

"A drain? Is that how you see our relationship?"

"You're twisting it." She rubbed a hand over her face. "Do we have to do this now? I'm too tired to drag all this up."

"You seem to be too tired for much these days. I can't remember the last time we spent an evening together – went to the cinema, saw a show, took the girls out for dinner." He paused for a moment, leaning on the bannister to look at her properly. "I can't even remember the last time we made love."

"Oh, so that's what this is about? What all men want. Sex."

"No, and don't you dare think me so superficial! This is about our relationship suffering, crumbling, and dealing with what's happening now. Not harking back to a time when I was trying to be a good friend. Which it seems I'm paying for now… by losing my wife."

The hand that rested on the banister rail not two feet from his curled tightly into the wood; her nails piercing the surface of the veneer. His words, though not entirely unexpected given the nature of their recent arguments, still struck a chord and it took all her might to supress feelings of guilt around her role as a wife and mother. "I don't want to have to keep apologising for wanting something for myself," she said quickly before biting down on her lip as she watched the hurt play across his face. She took a steadying breath to calm her voice as she spoke. "Is that how you really feel, that you're losing me?"

"We do nothing but argue…" He shrugged, "To be honest, I feel I've already lost you."

Three weeks later, he moved out.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you for the response to chapter 1, we really appreciate it! That first chapter served as a kind of prologue, establishing what happened in the past to our couple/family. Now we see how they're getting on five years down the line.**

 **xx R &R**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: How it is now**

 **May 2015**

Even after so many years of living elsewhere Charles still felt like he was coming home every time he pulled his car into the driveway of what was previously his family home. On dark nights the lights that came from the familiar windows somehow felt warmer, more welcoming, than elsewhere, and it was second nature to him to open the door without knocking or ringing the bell.

Stepping into the dimly lit hallway he made his way down and into the kitchen, "Hello, anyone home?"

"Hi Dad," Mae said, not looking up from her maths homework.

"Hello you two, hard at it I see."

"I've borrowed Mae's pencil case because I left mine at home," Lily said, turning her art book around to show her Dad. "I'm doing Mae's face, see, as she works."

"Pretty damned good it is too," he said, proud at how good the sketch was, whilst Mae was purely academic, Lily was all about art and sport. He ruffled his youngest daughter's hair, "Shame about your memory though, you left your swim bag too and isn't that where the three of you are going tomorrow?"

"Oops!" Lily grinned, chewing on the end of a pencil.

"Ew, don't do that, that's gross, spit on my stuff," Mae complained, throwing a rubber across the table at her sister.

"Where's your mum?" Charles asked, glancing around the kitchen, the oven was on but there was no sign of dinner. "Have you eaten already?"

"Nope, mum said she'd cook after she'd had a lie down and we'd done our homework. We've been eating jelly snakes."

"I had three red ones." Lily said proudly.

Mae turned in her chair, "You look smart Dad."

"Dinner with Robert and Cora." He didn't mention that they'd got a strange idea about introducing him to some woman called 'Alice'.

"Nice. You want a drink or something?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Well, can we have one then?"

"Cheeky rascal," he smiled, but he was already taking a bottle of lemonade from the fridge and filling two glasses. "Here, let me go check on your mum. Finish up here, yeah? Number seven is wrong Mae," he said glancing at her book. "Look at it again."

In the lounge Charles found Elsie fast asleep on the sofa, he'd known her long enough to know when she was exhausted and that there would be no waking her up. Bending down beside her, he noted she was still in her work clothes, it seemed to him she'd picked the kids up, set them up in the kitchen and collapsed in here. Working too hard, no doubt - it was busy time for her, gearing up for all the summer events - and getting little sleep.

He reached to the back of the sofa and pulled down the blanket she left there and gently wrapped it around her, careful not to wake her as he did so.

She moved in her sleep, shifting her head against the pillow and leaning forward slightly. After all this time, he still thought her the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Still.

From the door, their two daughters watched in silence as their father tenderly ran his finger over their mother's forehead, moving her fringe from where it had fallen over her face, and then continuing to trace his fingertip down her cheek. For a few seconds he knelt like that watching her, then with a sigh he sat back on the floor, reaching for the phone on the table by the side of the sofa.

The girls moved out of sight, back into the hallway and listened as he spoke.

"Hi, Robert, I'm unbelievably sorry but something's come up and I'm not going to be able to make it tonight. I need to take care of the girls. Yeah. Thanks. I will, and really, I'm very sorry. I'll try and make it up to you two sometime."

Brushing aside the momentary guilt he felt at letting his friend, and colleague, down at such short notice, Charles got to his feet, turned off the light in the room and left Elsie to sleep.

"Right," he proclaimed, coming into the kitchen, slipping his jacket off and rolling up his shirt sleeves. "What was Mum planning to do for dinner?"

"Chicken I think," Mae said, getting up from the table and opening the fridge door.

"Let's see. Looks like the ingredients for her famous chicken casserole, you think Dad can pull it off as well as Mum can?"

"Tough call," Mae teased and he dug his fingers in her waist tickling her.

Lily watched wide-eyed from where she knelt on her chair at the table. "Is Mummy alright Daddy?"

"Of course she is sweetheart, why wouldn't she be?"

"Because you…"

"She just means," Mae interrupted, "because you're cooking for us now and Mum was meant to do it tonight."

"Mum's just tired is all," he reassured, taking the vegetables from the fridge. "So, we'll help her out by making dinner, doing our homework, getting showered and changed into our pyjamas, and by the time we've done all that we'll wake her up and eat together, hey?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically.

"Good. Now, come here munchkin, we need an expert to chop these peppers."

Charles woke Elsie as the girls laid the table almost an hour and a half later. When shaking her shoulder didn't work he used his old trick of brushing his little finger down her nose until she swiped at it, waking herself.

"Hi," he smiled.

"Charles?" She leant back on the sofa, rubbing her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Lily forgot her swim bag, I brought it over."

"Oh, thank you." She flopped onto her back. "What's that gorgeous smell?"

"Dinner."

"Just how long have I been asleep?"

"Couple of hours at least." He got to his feet, groaning at the creak of his knees. "So, you going to come eat with us?"

"You cooked?"

" _We_ cooked, the girls and I. It'll do you good, come have a proper meal. Mae says you've been rushing about too much lately."

She rolled her eyes. "The traitor."

"She's almost fifteen Els, she misses nothing now." He chuckled, "She is your daughter."

"Hmm, hard to believe she's close to being a fully-fledged adult."

They ate as a family at the kitchen table for the first time in months. As Charles sat back and poured wine for he and Elsie he reflected on the very fact, _family_ \- theirs was an odd version of the word and if anybody analysed it they'd probably conclude the pair of them were out of their minds.

It had been five years now since he'd moved out. Five years in July, anyhow. Five years of separation without divorce. Five years of a split family life - Lily with him, Mae with her mum. And shared weekends and joint holidays and celebrations. They didn't argue anymore, that was the positive, and the girls had adjusted well and were happy, for the most part, as much as a fourteen year old and an eleven year old could be. And Elsie was happy. She seemed happy. That was all he wanted really.

"Can we play cards after dinner?" Mae asked, spooning more mashed potato onto her sister's plate and then her own.

"Of course, if you can remember where they are," Elsie agreed, taking her wine from Charles. "Dad always wins though, so no betting."

"I'm not betting my pocket money," Lily proclaimed, kneeling on her chair.

"No, you only just got it," Elsie said, patting her daughter's shoulder, "sit down sweetie."

Lily did as she was asked, pulling her glass of lemonade across the table towards her, "Nope. I'm saving it up."

"And what are you saving for?" Charles asked. "I might be able to help with your saving plan."

Elsie chuckled, "Don't let him suck you in, he'll take a cut of the money."

"I'm saving for Mae's birthday present."

"Ha!" Mae laughed. "Great!"

"I'm going to get you something really _,_ _really_ good."

"What you getting me kiddo?" Mae pushed her plate away, clearly done with dinner.

"A sparkly blue phone cover for your new phone!"

Elsie gasped and Charles shook his head, folding his hands beneath his chin. "Oh, Lil."

"Wait - am I getting a new phone?!" Mae asked excitedly.

"It would seem so," Elsie sighed, "wouldn't it Lily?"

"Yeah, Daddy said she is."

"It was meant to be a birthday surprise honey."

"Oh…" she grinned, "oops!"

"Come here," Elsie yanked her into her lap. "Silly thing."

"A new phone!" Mae jumped up from her seat. "Finally. Mine's like a brick. Is it an iPhone mum, like I've asked for? Is it mum?"

"I'm not telling you that, you know enough already."

"Ohhhh Mummy."

" _Now_ I'm Mummy." She plonked Lily's feet onto the floor and patted her bottom. "Let's do the dishes."

"Is it Lil?"

"Don't do that to your little sister," Charles said, turning his chair around to watch the three of them clear the dishes and fill the sink. "You'll know soon enough Mae."

"It's nine days until my birthday, that's forever."

"Hardly."

"That's just over a week," Lily said. "So I best get more pocket money if I'm going to get your present and a good card and a balloon."

"That's very generous Lily," Elsie said, handing both girls tea towels.

"I'm going to ask Grandma Carson for extra money to go with my pocket money."

"Oh no you're not," Elsie said, beginning to wash the dishes.

"I think I can help with that Lil, don't bother Grandma." Charles got to his feet and began clearing the table mats away ready for them playing cards.

"Can we have ice cream when we've done mum?"

"I'm sure we can find some."

"Will you make chocolate sauce Mummy?" Lily asked. "Daddy doesn't do it as good."

"Charming," he chuckled and Elsie glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled triumphantly.

"Of course I can darling."

He felt the urge to hold her, maybe slide his hand over her back, feel her warmth through the silk of her blouse, around her waist, tickle her, tease her. A kiss to her neck. It's what he might have done once, a long time ago, before the pair of them messed it all up.

Yes, it was an odd family, Charles thought as he watched them. But it was _his_ family and it worked.

* * *

 **End of September 2015**

Sometimes he recalls the first time he ever laid eyes upon her. It had been in the first week of lectures. He was a year into his course, he knew the ropes, he knew the routines and he'd probably become a little slack in his efforts – Charles had always had a head for numbers and the accountancy degree had never really pushed him.

Thursday afternoons meant a joint class; students who were not necessarily taking accountancy but needed elements of it as part of their degree would slink along to join his group. He found it tedious at best. Waiting for them to catch up while he was way ahead, at least it meant he could get away with doing the odd crossword.

It was early October and raining and she'd come in late, the door slamming behind her. She was wearing a dark green coat and, although warm, it didn't appear to be very waterproof. He'd watched in interest as she glanced around the room, her cheek flushed with embarrassment at being late. The professor had ushered her into a seat and she'd slipped, her flimsy shoes not really suitable for the wet weather. Charles remembers smiling at that, how she'd steadied herself with her hand on another student's shoulder as she'd passed. Even at that early stage he'd wished it was him she'd been leaning against.

The following Thursday, he'd been sure to arrive a little bit later, though he was usually very prompt, to the extent that he could be waiting a good twenty minutes for class to start. He'd expected to find her there early, to make up for last week's embarrassment and sure enough, she was in the front row, pencil in hand and pad of paper laid out ready to begin.

He slipped into the seat beside her, praying to God she was useless at Maths and then he'd have at least something to offer her. For surely, somebody who was as stunning as Elsie Hughes (as he soon discovered her name to be), would have a choice of suitors within the first month of university life.

Now, as he stands on his doorstep watching her come up the path to his end-terrace to collect Mae, he's struck by a sense of deja vu as once again it's raining and once again she's wrapped up against the weather in a dark green coat – it's always been a colour he's admired on her, and yes, he still thinks her stunning.

"You're a little early," he said jovially. "They're still finishing their cake and watching the end of Emmerdale."

"I know. I managed to get away earlier than expected." She smiled as she got close to him. "Well, ten minutes earlier… if you can call that earlier." She stood before him on the doorstep. "Are you going to let me in? It's sodding raining, you know? And I wouldn't mind one of those," she said, indicating the half-drunk glass of wine in his hand.

She followed him inside, lingering in the warm hall as she hung her coat and listened to him pour wine in the kitchen. As usual, his small hallway was a collection of schoolbags, abandoned shoes and his boxes of paperwork, but an unexpected item caught her eye; a pair of heels, blue and patent and certainly not belonging to either of her children. An odd feeling rose up in her stomach, something akin to feeling nauseous, though she wasn't ready to admit, or even deal with, what exactly that feeling was.

Since being a child, she'd always been forthright, if she was ever scared of something she faced it head on, yet with Charles that didn't always ring true. She'd learnt lessons about facing up to things the hard way growing up on a farm, where a harsh winter meant you could be one crop away from starvation, unwanted and pestering kittens had often been drowned at birth, sometimes, when she came across kittens now, their mewling took her back to a time when a bucket of water was a means to an end. Nevertheless, she took the forthright approach and followed him into the kitchen.

"So, Mae tells me you had a date?"

He was placing the bottle of wine back in the fridge door and it clinked worryingly against the plastic as it slipped slightly from his hand at her words. "Oh? She did, did she?"

She was already taking a seat on one of the stools at his breakfast bar, there was no dining table in Charles' house, there was no room for one, and since it was only himself and Lily there was no demand for it. The 'family' dinners they had now were usually at restaurants, on neutral ground, and, very rarely, at Elsie's.

He handed her the wine. "Now this is a 1997, which I'm sure you recall was a very good year."

Her eyes sparkled momentarily at his comments - the year they married. "I have a vague recollection of something important happening that year. And don't change the subject."

"The subject?" he queried.

"You know very well what I'm referring too." She took a gulp of wine, giving her time to centre her thoughts. "So, was this the first date? Or one of many? Or am I being too nosy?"

"You know, our daughters talk too much. They're too clever for their own good."

"Yes, well, they get that from me."

Charles laughed. "Very true, actually. So, you're taking Lily on Friday right? She's spending the weekend with you and Mae? She's looking forward to it."

"So am I. We're going to have spicy Thai food, because we know how much you hate it, and I'm going to introduce them to the delights of a pyjama party. I'll bring her back Sunday." She took another sip of her wine. "Looking forward to having the weekend to yourself are you?"

"I am indeed."

"Any plans," she asked him over the top of her wine glass.

"Something you want to ask me directly, Elsie?"

"I thought I did ask directly. You're the one dancing around the subject."

"Ask again."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't call her that, no."

"But you are seeing someone?" she pressed.

"Why does it bother you?"

She slipped down from her seat, smoothing down her skirt. "I'm not bothered. Just interested. Clearly, if this is something that is going to affect you, it's going to affect our daughters as well."

"If it gets to the stage where it will affect them, I will be sure to let you know. However, we have only had one date thus far."

Internally she breathed a sigh of relief, but again she didn't want to dwell on why. "And will you be seeing her again?"

He smiled self-consciously, it amazed him after all these years, twenty-two to be precise, and all they'd been through together, that they were still able to have the same level of banter, even in the odd situation they now found themselves.

"Perhaps it's my turn to ask a question," Charles said. "You seem to have had plenty in the last five minutes."

She scoffed. "Oh I can assure you, dating is the farthest thing from my mind."

"That wasn't going to be my question."

"Go on then, ask away."

"Why does it bother you so much? And I want a real answer this time."

He was close enough to her that she could smell his cologne and feel the familiar warmth that his body brought to hers, but she was saved from answering by the appearance of her youngest child.

"Mummy!"

Elsie turned quickly, drawing Lily into a tight hug. She closed her eyes, pressing her face against the side of her daughter's head and kissing her repeatedly. "Oh I've missed you sweetheart." Even now, five years after their situation had been established, she still suffered with the horrendous pain, the guilt, that came with feeling like she'd let one of her children go. How did you explain to a seven-year-old the reason that she would be living with father while her sister got to stay with Mummy? Sometimes she struggled to explain the reasoning behind it even to herself. But in the mess and pain, in the desperation she'd felt following the end of their marriage, she felt somehow she owed it to Charles to let him take Lily with him so that he wouldn't be alone – she didn't want to think of him being alone.

Though now, if she thought of him having another woman, she couldn't help but feel spiteful towards her and she didn't even know who she was.

Lily pushed back from her Mum's tight embrace, and Elsie cupped her face in her hands, brushing her fair, unruly hair back from her face. "I think you've grown even taller since I saw you last week."

"She's been made captain of the netball team," Charles said proudly. "She's quite the star, despite only being back in school a matter of weeks."

Elsie gasped in surprise. "Oh that's wonderful, I'm so proud. You should have called and told me."

Lily shrugged. "I told Mae."

"Of course you did…"

"… because you and she are constantly on that chat thing," Charles finished.

"I think they call it iMessage," Elsie pointed out.

"I need a drink Dad. Do we have any of that lemon stuff left?"

"In the fridge," Charles said, leaning against the door frame. Lily dashed under his arm towards the fridge.

"Mae?!" called Elsie. "Are you almost ready to go sweetheart?" She leant against the living room doorframe across from Charles, mirroring his posture. "Have you decorated in here?" she asked. "It looks brighter."

"No. I just cleaned."

She shook her head at him. He was in a good mood tonight which meant the conversation could maintain a light tone, and she appreciated that.

Mae was on the floor in the hallway shoving things into her school bag, and Elsie watched her before noticing Lily who was clambering down the hallway in shoes that were at least three sizes too big for her. Elsie opened her mouth to speak - those were the very shoes she'd noticed upon her arrival, but Charles beat her to it.

"Lil! Take those off. You know Mary will kill you if you scratch them."

Relief flooded through Elsie and she raised an eyebrow. "Mary's? Is your assistant living here now?"

"We had a business dinner the other night; she had to change here and forgot to take the damn shoes with her. Lily's been after them ever since." He closed the gap between them, stepping into her space. "Why? Did you think they belonged to someone else?" he asked lowly.

The question was left hanging in the air as Elsie abruptly turned away from him and kissed Lily fiercely on the forehead, squeezing her again. "I'll see you on Friday. Don't forget to pack good pyjamas."

Mae gave her father a hug and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you next week Dad."

Charles nodded. "Not long till half term sweetheart. Hang on in there."

Elsie glanced in his direction, frowning slightly at his words. "Bye Charles," she said, before disappearing out into the night.

* * *

In the car, Elsie gave it a few minutes before glancing towards her daughter, who was seemingly absorbed in her smart phone. "What did your Dad mean by that?"

"By what?"

"His comment… 'hang on in there'. What did he mean? What's going on? Are you involved in something you shouldn't be?"

"Why must you always think the worst of me?"

"I don't always think the worst. I think you'll find I always think the best."

Mae huffed, returning to her phone.

"So?" Elsie pressed.

"So what?"

"So… what did he mean?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"I'm asking you. Don't be difficult with me Mae; I'm tired."

"You're always tired." Mae huffed once more, but then she relented, turning her head toward her mother. "I was just telling him about coursework that's all. He asked me about school and how things were going. I told him how busy things are. I do have my final exams this year Mum."

"I am aware of that fact, yes. And what coursework are you having difficulties with? You should tell me these things, I can help."

"It's Art, and I don't want you to help. You find Art easy, like Lil. I don't."

"Then why did you choose it as an option?"

"Because I didn't fancy doing music, I can't be bothered to learn an instrument and I can't sing for shit."

"Watch your language Mae," Elsie warned, which was ironic in itself given the fact that all of Mae's bad language had been learnt from her mother.

"Sorry. It's just hard, that's all. This final project"

"Okay, so let's get your stuff out when we get in tonight, spread it all out on the kitchen table and you explain your project and your ideas and I'll offer guidance and then that's it, I won't interfere. Deal?"

"Yeah. Deal… thanks mum."

"You're welcome. You see, we just have to deal with things maturely. And you'll be sixteen next year which is something of a milestone. And your _old_ mother will be turning an _old_ 40 this year, which is a milestone of a different kind, and not one that needs to be dwelt upon."

"We're having a party Mum, like it or not, we're organising it with Grandma Carson."

"I don't have to come."

"You bloody well do!"

"Mae…."

"Sorry…" Mae's voice lightened and she turned slightly in her seat to face her Mum. "Do you remember Dad's 40th last year? The trip to the seaside? Dad's favourite place, Scarborough. We had fish and chips and Dad dragged you into the sea and your skirt got wet."

"Don't remind me. It was freezing."

"Yeah, remember how you swore and Dad told you off for corrupting Lily?"

"Your father always did enjoy my colourful language."

Mae leant her head against the headrest, curling her legs up a little on the seat. "I'm glad you came though Mum, it was nice that you did."

"Well I suppose it was nice to be asked. Even if a little unexpected."

"Of course he asked you; it wouldn't have been the same if you weren't there. You don't mind if Dad comes to the party, do you?"

She shook her head, "Course not."

"Dad wouldn't have been able to celebrate his birthday properly if you'd not been there..."

"I'm sure there are plenty of things that your father can do without me."

"You've not forgotten that he's started seeing someone have you, Mum?"

Elsie's shoulders stiffened. "It really has nothing to do with me."

"Well, obviously it does, cos you're still married."

"That's just a legal thing."

"Well why not dissolve it then, if it's just a 'legal' thing?"

"Sometimes you're too sassy for your own good. Your father and I have just never gotten around to divorcing."

Mae huffed indignantly and turned back in her chair. "Well if things get serious with this… Alice woman, you may have to think about it."

Mae's words washed over her, leaving a prickling sensation on her skin. 'Alice, so that's her name…'

* * *

When her mother and sister had left, Lily had finished her homework at the breakfast bar before taking a shower and settling down in bed, leaving her father watching some documentary on The History Channel. She was curled up and already half asleep when her iPad buzzed. She swiped the screen, not surprised to find a message from her sister.

Mae: HEY KIDDO. AWAKE?

Lily: HEY BRAT. YEAH.

Mae: SO DAD & ALICE, WHAT'S GOING ON THERE?

Lily: 1 DATE. WENT OKAY I THINK. DUNNO IF HE'S SEEING HER AGAIN.

Mae: MET HER? PRETTY?

Lily: BRIEFLY. NOT LIKE MUM. DID U SEE DAD STARING AT MUM 2NITE?

Mae: IT'S THE GREEN COAT

Lily: WHAT IF THEY GET DIVORCED?

Mae: GUESS WE'VE BEEN LUCKY IT'S LASTED THIS LONG WITHOUT THE 'BIG BREAK' BUT IT'S A PRETTY SCREWED UP SITUATION WE'RE IN. U UPSET?

Lily: JUST WORRIED. DON'T REALLY WANT A NEW MUM :-( :-(

Mae: ME NEITHER. NOT WHEN DAD CLEARLY STILL LOVES MUM. REMEMBER A COUPLE OF MONTHS BACK WHEN HE CAME ROUND AND COOKED TEA COS SHE WAS WIPED OUT ON THE SOFA. THE WAY HE STROKED HER HAIR AND COVERED HER WITH THE BLANKET?

Lily: YEAH. AND THEN WE ALL ATE HIS CASSEROLE. ITS NICE WHEN WE'RE ALL 2GETHER LIKE THAT.

Mae: LIKE A NORMAL FAMILY

Lily: WHAT ABOUT MUM, U THINK SHE STILL LOVES DAD?

Mae: DEFFO. SHE WAS WELL JEL IN THE CAR ON WAY HOME

Lily: WHAT R WE GONNA DO ABOUT IT?

Mae: LET'S BE A BIT LINDSAY LOHAN

Lily: MEAN GIRLS?

Mae: PARENT TRAP!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments on this - both of us really appreciate them. We've been able to post quite frequently over the past week becasue we've both been off work. Alas, all good things must come to an end, and we go back on Monday, so future updates may be a little more sporadic. But please do stick with us!

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **October 2015**

Charles strained to keep focused on the road, a yawn escaping him; he wasn't used to late nights and had never been a fan of French cuisine, they used too much cream for his liking. Even when he'd got in from his dinner with Alice, he'd not been able to retire to bed, suffering as he had with indigestion. He'd sat up until the early hours watching Time Team. If it wasn't for Lily's netball tournament this morning, he'd have still been asleep. As it was he had dragged himself out of bed to make her a decent, match winning breakfast.

"You ready champ?" he asked as they pulled into to the carpark.

"Ready and set to go Dad."

"You going to get your mother to re-plait your hair? I did a pretty shoddy job of it, didn't I?"

"You tried, but yeah, I'll ask her," she grinned, pushing back the loose bits that had already escaped from her plait.

As he pulled into a parking space, Charles reflected that he'd been quite lucky with Lily. They lived peacefully, lacking the fiery confrontation that sometimes existed between Mae and Elsie. They had similar interests - sport and history - and she was as laid back and easygoing as he was. The only really stumbling block had come during the summer when Lily had started her periods and he'd felt a bit of a clumsy oaf as he'd tried to deal with it.

* * *

 **July 2015  
**

Charles opened his eyes, sensing a presence in the room, and found Lily standing by his bed. He looked to the clock, 3.03.

"Lil, what's the matter?" he asked.

She didn't say anything but was tearful, and at first he thought she'd had a nightmare as he took in her ashen expression. She'd gripped his hand and dragged him out of bed and he'd blearily followed her back to her room, finding her sheets stained and his daughter a crumbling mess of insecurity.

Never had he wished more that Elsie had lived with them.

He perched on the edge of her bed and pulled Lily into a cuddle, at a loss for what else to do.

"I want Mum," Lily sniffled into his shoulder.

He rang Elsie, leaving his daughter cleaning herself up in the bathroom. Her voice was clouded with sleep. "It's 3.17 in the morning Charles. What the hell is going on?"

"It's Lily."

Elsie was instantly awake, sitting up in bed, immediately thinking the worst. "What is it? What's happened?"

"She's…" He searched for the words feeling awkward and unsettled by the whole thing. When it had happened to Mae, Elsie had dealt with it and informed him after the fact. "She's started her periods. I think she needs her Mum right now."

"Give me twenty minutes."

Charles changed Lily's bedsheets whilst Elsie drove over, a sleepy Mae lolling about in the backseat. He opened the door before she even had chance to knock; he'd been listening out for her car.

"Thanks for coming," he said, his voice flat. He felt like a failure; not knowing how to comfort his daughter. "She's in the bath… I thought it best she clean herself up."

Elsie could see he looked lost, and reached out to squeeze his arm, reassuring him that it was okay and that she would make things right in their daughter's world. "I'll go up. Mae's half asleep in the back of the car, could you…?" She handed him her keys.

He nodded and he put on his shoes as Elsie made her way upstairs. Stepping out into the night air, he lifted Mae out of the car and put her in his bed to sleep whilst Elsie secreted her and Lily away in the girls' bedroom.

After an hour of pacing the hallway outside Lily's room, Charles timidly opened the door, only to find mother and daughter curled up together, on the bed.

Lily was asleep with her head resting on her Mum's shoulder. Elsie smiled and mouthed at him, "She's okay."

He approached them and briefly touched Elsie's arm where it curled protectively around their little girl, thanking God for her. He kissed Lily lightly on the forehead before heading downstairs to sleep on the sofa.

* * *

 **October 2015**

He followed Lily at a distance as they made their way to the netball courts, not wanting her to feel crowded by her protective father. Mae stood up in the stands and waved him over and he greeted her and Elsie and took a seat next to them.

Elsie watched as her youngest daughter set down her bag and took out a bottle of water, "Is her hair tight enough to last for three matches?" she questioned.

"Yeah, it needs plaiting properly," Charles admitted. "I gave it a shot but perhaps you could…"

Mae jumped to her feet, eager to give her parents some time alone together. "I'll go." She turned to Elsie. "You stay here and talk to Dad."

As the stand began to fill up, they shifted closer and Charles yawned, stretching his arms above him.

"Late night?" Elsie quipped, fully aware from Mae that Charles was still seeing Alice and had been out with her the previous evening. Since she'd first heard the news a couple of weeks ago she was beginning to get used to the idea, she wouldn't say she was pleased about it but she was growing used to it - and maybe that's all she could ask for at this point. Besides, she'd been lucky, he hadn't jumped into bed with another woman immediately following their separation, he hadn't made their life together seem worthless.

Charles tilted his head slightly to regard the woman sat beside him. She was dressed casually, her hair looped up to keep it out of the wind, a thick white scarf tied around her neck. He thought how young she looked, she used to do her hair like that at university, when studying in the library. She'd cut it short after their separation and he'd hated it, glad when she'd let it grow out again. He reflected, as she turned her attention to the match that was beginning, that even at her most casual, with little makeup and in jeans and a jumper, she still captured his attention more than any woman ever had, including Alice, who'd been dressed up to the nines on their date last night.

"It's the French food, it upset my stomach."

She kept her attention focused on the match. "It's the cream. You know it doesn't agree with you."

"Miss Know-it-All," he shrugged, watching his daughter take her position on the court. "It wasn't my choice of restaurant anyway."

Elsie pulled her coat tighter around her and the movement caused a wave of her perfume to surround him.

He knew he would have to end this thing with Alice. Last night they'd kissed for the first time. He'd dropped her off at home and, being the gentleman that he was, had walked her to her door. She'd been so sweet and willing that when she'd pressed into him he had been drawn into the embrace. But even as her lips moved over his, he'd realised that it had been a mistake.

In contrast, the first kiss that he shared with Elsie had been as akin to perfection as he thought he would ever get.

They hadn't even been dating. He'd call her a friend of course; they'd sat next to each other for over two months, every Thursday in their shared class and quite often he'd meet her in the library to work on assignments. They'd drank with mutual friends at the student bar and she would chat to him if they passed in the corridor.

It had been Christmas, just before students had been about to disappear home for the holidays and their usual bar had been crowded, decked out with cheap tinsel and flashing lights. There'd been no need for mistletoe though. They were squashed together at the end of the bar and he was trying to signal to get a drink and she'd been laughing at his weak attempts to get the barman's attention. He still wasn't quite sure what had possessed him but as she'd giggled he leant in and tickled her waist and she'd squirmed against him until their faces were pressed close enough together that neither of them could ignore the obvious attraction anymore.

The noise of the room had faded away as in unison they'd leaned in to one another, a heady mix of soft tentativeness building to a passionate embrace that had left their bodies pressed together and their arms curled around each other. From that point on they'd been inseparable and that was how he thought his life would always be.

He was dragged from his reverie by Elsie jumping to her feet and cheering. He felt guilty for missing his daughter's first goal but got to his feet and clapped his hands together regardless.

As the match wore on, it became quite obvious to him that Mae wasn't returning to her seat and he wondered if the little Madam had planned it, although he was quite happy to have Elsie sat beside him. She gone to fetch teas as the teams moved on to their next match and he waved at his daughters before searching the queue for Elsie. He found her locked in conversation with a younger man, who was seemingly making her laugh. She dropped her head back in a way that he knew meant she was enjoying the attention and for the first time in a very long time he felt the pangs of jealousy deep in his belly.

Theirs was an odd relationship, he decided, as he watched her move forward in the queue. They weren't together but they weren't apart neither. They'd separated five years ago now but never divorced or even discussed the possibility of it. He saw her at least once a week as one of them dropped off or picked up their children and sometimes he even spoke to her on the phone mid-week just to share the news and upcoming arrangements. They still spent special occasions together as a family: birthdays, Christmas, sometimes even going away for a few days in the summer to the Cornish coast. He'd convinced himself that this set up was purely to create a settled and secure environment for their children, nothing to do with the fact that he was still desperately in love with his wife. And try as he might, he couldn't get her out of his heart. Not to mention the fact that she still clouded most of his daily thoughts.

He felt oddly shaky when she returned with the tea, glad to have something warm to hold on to. Knowing in the back of his mind that he still loved Elsie was one thing, sitting there and admitting it to himself and realising that he could never be with anyone else, was quite another.

"You look pale," she said, as they waited for the second match to start. "Your stomach still bothering you?"

"Actually," he said, sipping his tea, "I'm getting a little peckish. Shall we take the girls to lunch after this? Celebrate our youngest's first successful captaincy. Unless you have plans?"

She turned her head momentarily to regard him. "No, no plans."

* * *

After winning the tournament with a good seventeen goals to her name, Lily chose their eating destination – TGI Friday's, much to Charles' chagrin.

They were seated in a booth, Charles next to Mae and Lily next to her mum, as they scanned the menu. Elsie smirked to herself as she heard Charles tutting under his breath as he turned from one page to the next.

"Have a burger or a steak. You like meat and they do a gorgeous Jack Daniels' sauce."

"Jack Daniels? Why would you ruin a perfectly good whiskey by watering it down in a sauce?" He sat back in his seat, folding his arms and fixing her with a knowing look. "The Scot in you should be disgusted."

"Well, it's hardly Bruichladdich is it?"

Charles smiled at the way her tongue wrapped itself around the word; sometimes he forgot how much he loved her accent. "Ah yes, I'd forgotten how well you could handle the hard stuff."

"Well at least my tipple of choice isn't sherry - the old woman's drink"

"Shall we move on," Charles suggested, as Lily and Mae shared a knowing look.

Soon, the waitress appeared at their table and they ordered.

"Can I have the chicken noodle salad, with a side of fries please?" Elsie asked, with a tilt of her chin towards the waitress, flashing her a smile.

Charles had always admired the way why she ordered food, polite and friendly, in fact, it was no wonder her business had done so spectacularly well; she had the rare ability to put people at ease while simultaneously making them feel like the most important person in the world. It was how he had fallen under her spell in the first place, well that and the fact she had great boobs, he smirked to himself. Oh and her deep blue eyes that sparkled when she was plotting mischief, which was usually quite often. And her hands. His eyes glanced across the table to where her hand was tapping on top of her closed menu. He felt a tingling in his fingers as he longed to reach over and touch hers.

"Charles?" Her voice interrupted his thoughts and he lifted his gaze up to her face. "They're waiting for you to order."

"Oh, erm… I think I'll just have a steak please. Medium."

"What would like with that sir?"

"Chips please."

"I'm sorry, we only do fries, is that okay?"

Charles was about to grumble but Elsie headed him off. "That will be fine, thank you. Could we also have some of that Jack Daniels' sauce please?" She was determined Charles should try it.

"Of course. What can I get you to drink?"

"Chocolate milkshake," Mae piped up.

"Strawberry milkshake," Lily added.

"Oooh, that sounds good," agreed Charles. "I think I'll have a milkshake too. Chocolate please."

Elsie shook at her head, sometimes it was like taking three children out for dinner.

"And for you, madam?"

"I'll just have a small diet Pepsi please and can we have a large jug of water for the table?" The waitress nodded and left, as Elsie looked at the girls. "It would be nice if you could drink something that won't rot your teeth. You too Mr Carson."

He smiled smugly. "Whatever you say, _Mrs_ Carson."

His words struck a chord, in fact it was something she'd been thinking about more and more of late, especially if he was now dating. They would have to face the issue sooner or later, they'd been separated for five years after all and to remain married now seemed something of a folly, especially considering that the girls had adjusted so well to the changes.

"Dad, don't you want to wash your hands before dinner?" Mae asked, keen to put their mini-plan into action.

"Yeah," Lily agreed. "You know you like to."

Charles looked around the large, sprawling restaurant. "I'll never find my way to the bathroom and back again."

"Don't worry," Elsie said, dropping her napkin to the table as she got to her feet. "I need the loo. You can follow me."

When Elsie got back to the table, she paused a few steps away, shaking her head as she noticed that the girls had moved to one side of the booth, huddled together over Mae's iPad.

Sighing, but with a smile, she sank down into the seat opposite them and shuffled along to make space for Charles. "You two are incorrigible," she said, shaking her head. "Can I have my napkin please?"

Mae threw the napkin across the table. "I don't know what you mean," she replied innocently. "We just wanted to play this game."

"Oh, seat swap," Charles said as he sat down next to Elsie. "Thanks for waiting for me, by the way. Much appreciated."

Elsie shrugged. "I knew you'd find your way back. You always do."

"So, as we're celebrating my win, do I get to choose what we do for the rest of the day?" Lily asked.

"We have been out since 8.30 Lil," Elsie gently pointed out.

"But it's a Saturday Mum," Mae countered. "You can always catch up on your work tomorrow."

Elsie felt the familiar sensation of being torn. It was so familiar to her now that she didn't remember a time when she hadn't had to choose between her family and her work. She glanced at Charles, he was tellingly silent, not wanting to impose his views or, worse still, get drawn into an argument.

"Well, what is it you want to do?" she asked.

"I thought we could go to the cinema. I'd quite like to see that new _Pan_ film."

"Pan? Is it about cooking?" Charles asked, stirring his straw in his milkshake.

Elsie smiled. " _Peter_ Pan." She resisted the urge to add the endearment, 'darling' to her statement.

"Well, what time is it on?"

"Don't worry Mum, I'm on it," Mae said, tapping on her iPad. "There's a showing at 15.30."

"That's perfect," Lily exclaimed. "Pleeeeeease Muuuuum?"

"Yeah, go on Mummy. Pleeeeeeease?"

She heard Charles chuckle beside her, she turned to him and he shrugged. "They've got your persuasion techniques down, dear."

Her mouth dropped open and she swallowed, but she didn't have time to reply to his endearing slip as their food arrived.

* * *

As usual, there was a debate about who would pay for what. In the end, Charles insisted on paying for dinner and Elsie relented, but only on condition that she paid for the cinema tickets and snacks – they'd skipped dessert, promising the girls popcorn instead.

It wasn't a long walk from the restaurant to the cinema so they left their cars where they were. Elsie had been fiddling with her coat and scarf inside the doorway so emerged onto the street a couple of minutes after the other three. As she caught them up, she remained behind them, drawn in by the obvious affection between the three; one girl on each arm, enjoying time together with their father.

The season was drawing on and even by mid-afternoon the air was frosty. It made her recall their early days together in York as students. That January following their first kiss, when they'd begun to date and she'd held onto his arm for warmth, security and steadiness as he escorted her back to her halls of residence after one of their many dates. Everything seemed so easy back then, they'd had shared goals and ideals, but now she realised how young she'd been, how immature, but Charles had always been steady and level headed. It was one of the things she'd loved about him. That and the fact that, despite all of their many arguments that had eventually led to their separation, he was still the kindest person she'd ever met and would always be a decent, good man. And whatever else she felt towards him, there was no denying that he was a wonderful father and she couldn't have asked for more for her daughters.

Charles glanced back over his shoulder at her, checking she was still there. She gave him a half smile, digging her hand into her pockets as they reached the crossing to the cinema – was she still attracted to him? Sometimes he only need look at her in a certain way, or more importantly say her name in that rich, luxurious voice and she was melting again. She used to think she could quite happily listen to him read the telephone directory to her and it would still be a turn on. She was still smiling over this fact as they entered the cinema and she joined the queue to purchase tickets.

It wasn't that she'd ever been short of admirers, even when they'd first started dating or now. In fact, she remembered in her second year, an altercation in a bar when the usually calm and patient Charles had quite unexpectedly lost his temper with a man who seemed to think he had the right to place his hand on Elsie's bottom as she queued for drinks. She'd been more than capable of taking care of herself, but it had been nice to have a backup, and a tall, handsome one at that.

There was a man in the next office to hers who seemed to have taken quite a shine to her and had recently started hanging around outside her door last thing on a Friday night and chatting as she tidied away. She assumed this was a flirtation but it had been so long since she'd experienced it that she couldn't be 100% sure. It felt nice to have someone show an interest in her, it reminded her that she wasn't dead yet, but beyond that, she couldn't quite escape the fact that she didn't want anyone but Charles to touch her. Yet this only complicated matters, and reminded her that it was only three years ago since she'd given into her desires for him, only to be left feeling used when she'd woken up to find him gone and the faintly bitter realisation that it had just been about sex.

They sent the girls in to get their seats as they purchased drinks and popcorn. When they finally got inside the screen, the lights were already dimmed and the adverts had started, so there was little choice but for them to take the two end seats left empty next to their daughters – doubtless the girls' intention.

It wasn't a bad film, not particularly to Charles' taste but at least he'd been able to remain awake; a fact he prided himself on as his wife slept beside him, her head pressed against his shoulder – he was glad she didn't snore.

Charles felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he moved to retrieve it, careful not to disturb the sleeping form beside him. The message was from Alice:

HI. REALLY ENJOYED LAST NIGHT. CANT WAIT TO DO IT AGAIN. XXX

He re-read the words, unable to ignore the missing apostrophe – he had high standards when it came to punctuation and grammar and this was yet another reason why he couldn't see a future to their 'relationship', especially when he was still so deeply ingrained in the relationship that was currently asleep on his shoulder.

He didn't reply to Alice and tucked the phone away once more, ignoring the urge to curl his arm around his wife, because she was still his, wasn't she? He wondered if that had ever been in doubt.

* * *

"Tell me," Charles said as he made his way into the lounge later that night and placed two hot chocolates on the coffee table, "you've just spent the entire day with your sister, what could you possibly have to talk about now? That machine bleeping away every five seconds."

"Sssh Dad. I'm trying to concentrate," Lily said, as she waited for Mae to type her response.

Mae: AND DID U NOTICE SHE SLEPT ON HIS ARM?

Lily: SOOOOOOOOO CUTE :D

Mae: THEY'RE STILL HOT FOR EACH OTHER

Lily: EWWWWWW TMI :-&

Mae: HA HA HA! WE NEED TO GET THEM ALONE TOGETHER. SOMEWHERE ROMANTIC

Lily: WITH CANDLES. LOVELY MUSIC – SOME OF THAT SOUL STUFF U LISTEN TO.

Mae: LEMME THINK ON HOW TO SET THIS THING UP. NIGHT KIDDO X

Lily: NIGHT BRAT XX


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Once again, thanks for all the comments. We're both so glad you all seem to be enjoying this AU - it's a joy to write.

 **Chapter 4**

 **October 2015**

Despite his success with his business Charles didn't exactly enjoy hurting people. True, if you asked those he'd worked for he was firm, fair, possibly stuck in his ways at times, but it worked. You didn't reach his level of success without it working.

Elsie had always called him a 'marshmallow', even before his middle-aged spread had set in. She said he was all sharp edges and foolishly phrased comments, but when you got beneath that he was as warm and kind as a man could be - _squidgy_ , she'd said, though he'd rolled his eyes at that on more than one occasion.

He tried to remember that when Alice abruptly ended their phone call after being told he didn't wish to see her anymore. He wasn't really a cruel man, just a bumbling one at times, and he should never have let Robert talk him into dating her anyway. Yes she was young and attractive and vivacious but she lacked the vital element he was searching for - she wasn't Elsie, and he was still too much in love with the mother of his children to contemplate letting someone else into his heart. Robert had argued he only need let her into his bed, but he wasn't that man, never had been.

It was easier being single. The truth was he kept himself that way, just in case Elsie ever changed her mind. He often reflected on how weak he actually was, she probably only need snap her fingers and he'd go back. Oh but how things used to be - the constant arguing, hurting each other, listening to her cry in the bathroom. He didn't want that. They got on so much better now they were apart.

* * *

 **March 2009**

Elsie was stomping across the kitchen, taken salad items from the fridge and throwing them by the chopping board as she set about making dinner. "You were meant to pick them up," she said harshly.

"I know. And I forgot and I'm sorry. I said that."

"Do you know how embarrassing it was to be called out of that office because my children are sitting at school waiting to be collected?" She pointed a knife at him, waving it about as she spoke.

"It slipped my mind. I got called into a last minute meeting." Charles laid his briefcase on the kitchen table and flipped it open.

" _I_ was in a meeting!"

"Yes, but yours…"

"But, what? Don't you dare imply yours is more important, don't you dare!"

"Well, you've only just started…"

"You absolute bloody bastard!"

"I hardly think that's called for Elsie." His tone hardened at her words, and he stood his ground now, facing her.

"Not called for?!" She threw the knife she was chopping the tomatoes with to the counter. "What would be called for then, Charles? _Don't worry darling, it's fine, I'll do it all. Absolutely sodding everything!_ "

"I'm not saying that," Charles sighed. "Just that this was one of our most loyal clients. It was imperative I was there. Your clients are new and -"

Elsie cut him off, "Oh, now I understand. My clients aren't as important, certainly not so prestigious as yours. Well, thank you, now I know my place." She returned to preparing the salad.

Charles raised his hands in despair, clearly he couldn't say anything right. He approached Elsie from behind, placing his hands on her shoulders as gently as he could. "I'm sorry. I said I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you…."

"You always intend to," she said softly, "but then…" They were interrupted by the sound of their daughter skating into the kitchen.

"Ha, ha, Daddy, you forgot to pick us up!" Mae teased, twirling in a circle.

"Mae Carson! How many times do I have to say it? No rollerskating in the house!" Elsie snapped. "It scratches the wood!"

"Els," Charles said softly, trying to curb her sharp tongue.

She shot him a steely glare, "You do dinner," she snapped, leaving the half-prepared food and heading out of the kitchen and upstairs. Charles was left with a feeling of guilt, an upset daughter, and a burning roast chicken to deal with.

* * *

 **2015 - late October**

The Friday following Lily's netball tournament, Elsie arrived home to find her kitchen covered with scented candles. She sighed as she took in the scene. What on earth had the girls been up to this time?

"We got off the school bus in town," Mae explained when her mother questioned her. "The Candle Shop were having a big promotion… we couldn't resist."

"We got you this too," Lily said, holding out a bag from _Lush_.

Elsie opened it to find a 'Floating Island' bath melt, the label of which promised to 'transport [her] to a happy place as its exotic fragrances are released.' It sounded heavenly; just what she needed.

"You've been working really hard this week to make sure you could be home early tonight." Mae said.

"Well I did promise to do your hair for this party, didn't I?"

"Exactly and we thought you deserved a nice relaxing evening while we're out."

"Auntie Beryl has made you some of her brownies too… although there may be two less than there were when she gave them to us."

Elsie chuckled, her daughters had definitely inherited their father's sweet tooth. "Did Beryl call round?"

"Only to drop off those and the brochures for her Christmas Cakes. She wants you and Dad to hand them out at work."

"Well, you know your father will order three for himself anyhow," she said, flicking through the mail that Mae had laid on the kitchen table.

"She also mentioned your birthday and asked how the party planning was going."

Elsie groaned inwardly. "And you said…?"

"That's for us to know, Mummy!" Lily said, tapping her nose.

"Oh is it indeed?" She tickled Lily's waist. "And suddenly you can keep a secret can you missy?" She kissed her daughter's head, "Come on, let's go get your hair done and into your dresses or we'll be late for this shindig."

"We _can_ be late Mum," Mae assured her, leading the way up the stairs, "It's good to make an entrance."

 _She was turning into quite the little woman_ , Elsie thought as she followed her.

* * *

Sinking back in the bath, Elsie closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. This was the most relaxed she had felt in a long time - thanks to Mae and Lily. She was lucky to have such kind, thoughtful daughters. She supposed she should thank Charles' genes for that, though she didn't really want to dwell on thoughts of her ex-husband tonight. She'd spent too much time of late worrying about Charles and what might happen with this woman he was seeing. It was clouding her mind and distracting her - both at work and at home.

No. She'd made her decisions regarding her relationship with him a long time ago and returning to them now would only be painful and messy.

Things were so much better the way they were. Simpler.

Her plans for the rest of evening were simple; Chinese food, pyjamas, the sofa, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on a constant loop and a bottle of her favourite white – thankfully Sandra had agreed to drop the girls home after the party so she had no need to go out again. Though she'd made Mae promise to text her every hour and let her know they were okay. Mae could probably handle herself but in many ways Lily was still her baby, despite the fact she would soon be as tall as Elsie!

The welcoming warmth of the water eased her aching muscles and she let her mind drift away as she relaxed. As always, her first thoughts were to the work she'd have to do that weekend and balancing it with spending time with her children. When she'd began, seven years ago, she'd dreamt of a time when she'd no longer have to work weekends, when she'd be organised enough and secure enough in her abilities that it could all be balanced – as yet, that hadn't materialised. Though, if she really thought about it, it was quite obvious that work had become the thing the thing that filled the void left by her absent husband. Anna was more than capable of taking on more of Elsie's workload, but a niggling fear that without work she'd be needed by nobody – given the fact that Charles had left and her daughters were maturing into independent and self-sufficient young ladies – couldn't quite leave her.

She had no fears that the business would suffer or its reputation be damaged in any way were Anna to take on more responsibility. This was about her own insecurities and finding that the decisions she'd made may well have left her lonely and regretful.

When the doorbell rang for the first time she sank down further into the water ignoring it, hoping that whomever was on the doorstep trying to sell her something would bugger off. When it rang for the third time she had no choice but to drag herself reluctantly from the water and don her dressing gown as she made her way downstairs, leaving a trail of watery footsteps upon the carpet as she went.

Switching on the outside light, she opened the door only to find an illuminated Charles blinking back at her, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bottle of Pepsi in the other. "Running late?" he asked amused by her appearance.

"Late for what?" she asked, perplexed, pulling her robe tighter around her against the frosty, evening air.

"Dinner. The girls said to be here for seven thirty. You were making your famous spaghetti."

"I haven't got…" She shook her head. "What?"

Realisation dawned on Charles and his heart dropped. "Have I got the wrong date? I was sure it was tonight?" He pulled out his phone. "I put it in this contraption, but knowing me, I probably did something wrong." He started to tap away and she shook her head knowingly.

"I think we've been set up," Elsie said, putting the pieces together. "Are you coming in," she asked, "because it's bloody freezing and I've just left a hot bath?"

"Oh…erm…" he bumbled, passing her as he entered, realising that she was in fact naked under her robe. "I don't wish to disturb your evening, if you had plans."

"My plans consisted of Chinese food and wine, the latter of which you appear to have brought with you. You're welcome to share the takeaway if you wish."

"Have you ordered from the place I love round the corner?"

She noted the energised tone to his voice as he spoke of the food and smiled to herself, "I haven't ordered from anywhere yet. Why don't you ring while I go and put some clothes on? You know what I like."

His gazed lingered a little too long on her backside as she headed upstairs, trailing down from her swaying hips to her shapely legs. Licking his lips, he shook his head regretfully - there was certainly no place for that! ' _She asked you for dinner, old man. Not dessert,_ ' he thought to himself.

He headed into the kitchen, the place that had once been the heart of their family life, and searched around in the end drawer where all the takeaway menus were kept. Choosing food would distract him from the fact she was naked and dressing upstairs and they were completely alone in the house.

* * *

The kitchen table was crowded with Mae's art coursework that had been laid out for the past few weeks, so they were squashed into one corner; Charles at the head of the table, Elsie to his right. They'd shared crispy duck pancakes to start – she wouldn't ordinarily have ordered a starter, but as usual Charles had overestimated how much they could eat. He'd gone for his usual sweet and sour chicken and fried rice while she'd had spicy noodles and king prawns.

"So," he said, refilling their wine glasses, "any idea how this came about?"

She put her fork down, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "You mean the two of us being left alone together? I don't think it's much of a coincidence, I'll say that."

"So they are trying to set us up?" She nodded, sipping her wine. "But why now?" he continued.

"Well neither of us have dated before," she suggested. "Maybe it's come as a shock to them that we might move on." She paused a moment, sliding her finger around the rim of her wine glass. It was time to be honest with him. "Perhaps it's come as a bit of a shock to me as well."

Charles felt his throat constrict at her admittance; he was nervous at the suggestion that she cared. After all this time she was offering him a glimmer of hope and he didn't want to mess it up. "Do you think that I've moved on? Have either of us?"

"Well, I'm not the one who's been dating."

Charles looked at her, an honest expression on his face. "I'm not dating anyone."

For a moment they sat in silence, Elsie staring at her half eaten food. Charles wondered if she'd notice if he drained his entire glass of wine in one go, he was desperately in need of more liquid courage.

"So, aren't you going to ask me what happened with Alice?" he bravely went on, doing his best to keep the tremble from his voice.

"Is it really any of my business?"

"It seemed to be your business the other week." He leant back in his chair, stretching his long legs out under the table, catching Elsie's bare foot as he did so. When she didn't respond, but kept her eyes fixed on the table, he decided to plunge forward. "She wasn't for me," he admitted.

She looked up sharply, her voice barely a whisper. "Why not?"

His eyes were dark as he stared intensely at her, seemingly seeing her for the first time in years. "She wasn't you."

The very air around seemed to shrink in and gather them together and Elsie's fingers flexed forward as she reached to touch where Charles' hand lay. The draw that had always been between them had not lessened as time had gone on, it merely became more clouded by outside responsibilities. But as he leant towards her, and she to him, it seemed inevitable that they'd finally kiss again after so many years of avoiding their mutual attraction.

His lips had barely grazed over hers before she abruptly pulled back, wide-eyed and startled. Her chair scraped noisily back across the floor, as she hastily got to her feet. "I don't think _that's_ a good idea."

He rose to his feet, feeling unsure and unsettled. "It _felt_ like a good idea."

"We both know what came of your good idea three years ago."

"Yeah, you pretended it never happened," he said, his body almost humming at the memory of how it felt to be naked on the couch with her in her living room and then the disappointment when she avoided all mention of it afterward.

" _I_ pretended it didn't happen? At least _I_ was still there the following morning."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Her confusion over her long suppressed feelings for him caused her to behave how she always did in situations of uncertainty, she drew up the walls and let her sharp Scottish tongue get the better of her. "Well it was quite obvious that after getting to fuck me twice, you'd had your fill and –,"

"No, no no! That's not what happened." he said, shaking his hand at her. "Do you really think that I'm such a complete and utter bastard?

"Well…" she shrugged, taking their plates from the table and carrying them over to the sink.

"Hang on, that's not fair," he said, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to face him. "We've gone three years without talking about this because I thought that was what _you_ wanted, that _you_ thought it a mistake."

"You certainly didn't hang around to ask me."

"The girls were asleep upstairs, would you rather I'd have stayed and they'd found us naked on the couch together?"

"No, but you didn't have to leave. You could have been in the kitchen; you could have made breakfast; a pot of God damned tea would have sufficed."

"And how would we have explained my spending the night?" he asked, his tone incredulous as he watched her stomp about, filling the sink with their dirty dishes.

"You could have drunk too much and slept on the couch." The sarcasm in her voice suggested that she thought these options obvious and the fact that he hadn't even considered them riled her yet more.

"Well, as always, your logic is better than mine." His voice was flat as he turned away from her, digging his hand into his pocket in frustration.

"So that's that. Nothing more to say on the matter?"

"What's the point? Clearly you're always in the right and I'm always in the wrong."

"How is that fair? Why must you _always_ make me out to be some kind of dragon?"

He slapped his hand down on the table. "You see this is why we aren't together anymore, because we're incapable of having a simple, fucking discussion without hurling insults at each other."

She was taken aback, not only by his language but his palpable anger; Charles Carson didn't often lose his temper. "Have I insulted you?" she pressed.

"For God's sake Elsie, you accused me of sleeping with you purely in the interests of gratification. Like there's nothing else between us that could possibly drive my motives."

"What such as the fact that you needed to get laid after being single for two years because… You. Left. Me."

"Hang on." He shook his head, feelings of unfairness and misunderstanding filling his stomach with bile. "I didn't leave you. I didn't leave our children. You made it impossible for me to stay. You _told_ me to go."

"I did not."

"You did," he said quickly. "In fact, you roared it at me. 'If that's how you feel, just go!'"

She turned away, swinging her arms wildly. "For fuck's sake; that was a row Charles. People say things they don't mean in the heat of an argument. You made me feel like a complete slut after that night."

"Don't switch points." He was breathless with indignation, once again exhausted by how quickly they could move from something so pleasant to roaring at each other.

He breathed deeply, attempting to calm himself before he spoke. "So you didn't mean it? You didn't want me to go?" He paused again, she had her back to him and he was desperate to see her face, her reaction to his words. "Should I have stayed?" He couldn't escape the desperate feeling that all those years ago he'd made a mistake by walking away.

When she didn't respond he softly touched her back until she turned to him and he asked her again. "Did you want me to stay?"

"Yes..." she finally admitted quietly, gripping the back of the chair.

"Then why the hell are you pushing me away now just as you did then?"

Any retort she was about to give was cut short by the noisy return of their children, laughing and giggling as they stumbled in through the front door and down the hall and into the kitchen.

Their laughter immediately died out as they became aware of the heavy atmosphere which existed between their parents. Clearly the plan had not gone quite as expected.

* * *

 **2012**

The summer of 2012 had been coloured by two things – the Queen's jubilee and the Olympics. There'd been a pull on the country, a kind of national identity and unity that had been missing for many years and it was almost infectious.

For Charles, both a royalist and as English as it was possible for a man to be, it was perfection.

He'd been separated from his wife for coming up to two years now but luckily their split had been amicable and they got on far better in the months following the separation than in the ones that had preceded it. So, as he headed over to their family home, his youngest daughter by his side in the car, he felt no apprehension about spending the night watching the Olympic opening ceremony with Elsie. He could think of nothing better than the four of them together.

Elsie had prepared a delicious roast dinner and they'd shared a bottle of wine between the two of them as they ate. The girls, twelve and nine respectively, were bundles of excitement and practically bounced their way through dinner. So much so that they were excused from the clearing up and spent the time it took for Charles and Elsie to do the dishes to dance around the lounge listening to _Now 82_.

"I hope it lives up to expectations," Elsie said as she handed a soap-covered plate to Charles for drying.

"I saw some pictures in The Times from the rehearsal, if anything it's added to my excitement."

She smiled indulgently at him, "You're like the kids."

"Perhaps worse!" he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"Daddy!" Lily yelled, racing into the kitchen and into the back of his legs. "Come on, it's almost time!"

He dropped the tea towel to the side, turning to scoop Lily up and spin her. "Let's go then!" he said throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into the lounge.

"Bring the ice cream mummy!" Lily called back in between giggles.

"Yes, do bring the ice cream mummy," he teased, smirking at her.

It was a good night, a fun night, the four of them squashed up on the sofa that had the best view of the television, well three of them squashed up and Lily perched on her mother's knee. She'd been so young when she'd moved out to go live with her father that it never occurred to her that life could be different, but she did miss her mother – especially the cuddles. For Elsie's part, whenever she spent time with her youngest daughter she made sure she showered her with affection, perhaps in an attempt to quell her own pain that tormented her so at living apart.

By the time the ceremony had reached the arrival of the teams both girls were asleep against their parents.

"Should we put them to bed?" Charles asked. The plan had always been for Lily to stay over, she would spend the weekend with her mother and sister and Charles would have them both the following weekend. "Can you manage Lily?" he asked as he got to his feet and easily lifted Mae into his arms. "Otherwise I'll come back down."

"I think I'm okay," she said, getting to her feet and lifting Lily into her arms as she once did when she was just a baby. "Oh, _just_ though…"

When she'd tucked Lily in and emerged back in the darkened hallway Charles was waiting for her. "I guess I should get going."

"Oh, you don't want to see the end of this? Maybe open a second bottle of wine?"

"We could, I guess I could call a taxi, pick my car up tomorrow."

She gave him a small smile, "Good."

They weren't even halfway through the second bottle before they kissed, it was inevitable really. Spending such intimate time together, sharing so much joy with their children. Remembering what it felt like to be together.

She'd been sat beside him on the couch, her legs curled up beneath her, her bare feet pressing lightly against his leg. And when he'd leant across her to place his wine glass on the side table his elbow had brushed her chest and he glanced to her face apologetically.

"Sorry…"

But the look in her eyes had been intoxicating and he'd leant closer, not crowding her but giving her the option, and she'd leaned into him, pressing her mouth forcefully against his.

It was like a storm after a drought, a welcome cascade, overwhelming and invigorating all at once. He'd leaned back against the arm of the couch and she'd moved with him, her body over his, pressed against him.

Perhaps he'd been the one to move it forward when he'd slid his hand up the back of her shirt, his palm against her back, skin to skin. But she hadn't minded, in fact as soon as he'd done it she'd pulled back from the kiss and lifted the top over her head and thrown it aside.

The sight of her in just a lacy bra – after so very long of trying to forget how she looked in just her underwear – instantly pushed him over the edge and he pulled her against him with such force she'd giggled uncontrollably as he'd covered her neck and chest in kisses.

"Oh god, I want you so badly," he panted, feeling her nimble hands working loose his belt buckle.

Together they'd pushed his trousers down and worked her underwear down her legs, pushing her skirt high up her thighs as she straddled him.

"Elsie," he breathed, brushing his thumbs over her nipples through the material of her bra. She'd leant back then, unhooking it herself and letting the material fall loose until her breasts could fill his palms.

"I've missed you," he whispered, placing kisses to the creamy skin. "Missed this."

She cupped his face in her hands, "Stop talking." And she kissed him fiercely.

When she reached back and found the television remote, turning off the coverage, the room was plunged into darkness. The only light a faint one coming under the door from the hall.

He'd felt, rather than seen, her body press against his, the fumbling attempts to find the right angle, her hand reaching down between them to guide him inside her. Then that simultaneous moment of shared joy as he'd sighed her name and she stilled her hips. Leaning her head back as their bodies remembered the other.

He'd moaned so much she'd had to place her hand over his mouth to stop him from waking their girls, but it had been so very long and she was so turned on by the unexpected situation that it had taken barely any time at all for her to climax, Charles not far behind her.

Their rather frantic movements had left them breathless and flushed and they'd flopped back on the couch, Charles kicking his loose trousers off completely and Elsie wiggling her skirt down her thighs and to the floor.

He'd laid back, her body draped over his, completely naked now and free to enjoy the joy of having her there with him now the initial passion was calming. He stroked her skin in the darkness; gentle, delicate fingertips tracing over every curve. And she'd done the same, letting her fingers trace the lines of his face, the broad chest, the thick muscles of his arms.

There were things he longed to say to her, so much to talk through, so many things to make right. But now wasn't the time, it was clear she didn't want to talk, and they knew each other so well. They'd grown up together. Lived life together.

He rolled onto his side, their mouths meeting slowly in a sweet, deep kiss. Her knee moved between his legs as their arms surrounded the other, pressing every inch of their bodies close. How well they fit together, Charles had always thought that, how perfectly they complemented the other - in every aspect of their lives.

This time everything was slowed down. They took their time. Their languid movements increasing the intensity of being back together again. He didn't dare admit that he'd been dreaming of this moment for so long now, that any thoughts of moving on and perhaps finding somebody else had disappeared only a few months into their separation when he realised he just couldn't imagine being with another woman. He'd wondered if perhaps that might change as time went on, but twenty odd months down the line and he still felt consumed by her. Many was the night he'd laid in the dark staring at the ceiling and questioning just why they couldn't make it work, then the arguments would come back to him - slammed doors, raised voices, her crying, the children upset. Missed dates and hurt… that was it, most of all, the hurt.

That all seemed to fade away now, as she moaned her pleasure into his mouth, her fingers gripping his shoulder blade and holding her to him.

It felt so good to be held again, to feel him move with her, he'd always been so gentle, so sure, when it came to the physical side of their relationship. Tender passion. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed, and he poured so much affection into it that quite often, in the early days of their marriage, she'd felt overwhelmed by his adoration of her. Now, she never wanted to be without it again.

After, she lay curled on her side facing the back of the couch, and Charles was pressed up against her, his knees at the back of her legs, his mouth still placing kisses along the back of her neck. Elsie had pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa over them but the room was warm, heady in the summer night.

They slept, content to be together.

When Charles awoke the first slants of sunlight were working their way through the blinds in the lounge and he reluctantly let go of Elsie's body to twist his neck and glance at the clock on the mantle - 5:25. The girls would be up and around in a couple of hours and how would they explain this? Their parents naked on the couch? Daddy sleeping over? He couldn't do that to them, not after putting them through the hell of the break up in the first place. He and Elsie hadn't even discussed what it meant, and he needed to get their stories straight before they told anybody that they were giving it another shot.

Reluctantly he got to his feet and dressed in silence. He found his car keys on the table in the hall and tucked them into his trouser pocket before returning to Elsie. Her shoulder was bare and he bent to kiss the freckled skin, pulling the blanket up and over her arm to keep her warm. She looked so peaceful. So very beautiful, and he couldn't help but kiss her again, her head this time, "Love you," he whispered, before leaving.

When Elsie woke, over an hour later, she felt disorientated. Her neck ached and her feet were cold and she turned onto her back stretching out as she glanced about. She noted first of all that her clothes from the previous day were in a neat pile on the edge of the coffee table. That the wine glasses from the evening had been cleared away. That she was alone.

Tugging the blanket around her naked body she sat up, dropping her feet to the carpet, listening out for signs of Charles in the other room. Only when she wandered through to the kitchen it was empty. Mae and Lily still slept and the house was silent and, somehow, cold.

Sinking into a chair at the kitchen table she scanned the room for signs he was there - a note, a text, anything… But no, there was no sign he'd even spent the night. A feeling she hadn't experienced since her teenage years and her first tentative steps into dating filled her chest… the realisation she had been used.

* * *

 **2015**

Elsie tapped her knuckles against Mae's bedroom door before slowly easing the door open and peeking inside.

"I thought I'd find you in here together," she said, automatically moving about the room to fold abandoned clothes and lay them over the back of the desk chair. It seemed that despite the fact they had separate bedrooms they always ended up together.

She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to where Lily's head rested on Mae's shoulder and kissing her forehead before she did the same to her eldest daughter.

"You know, that was a pretty sneaky thing you two did tonight."

Mae opened her mouth to deny any wrongdoing but Lily got there first, "We're sorry, mum, we just thought…"

"I know what you thought." She patted Lily's leg through the blanket. "And I understand why, honey, but if your father is ready to date then he's ready to date and we just have to accept that."

"Have you accepted that, mum?" Mae said abruptly.

"I suppose, like you, I have to." She got to her feet, "He's waited long enough, it's hardly like either of us have rushed into anything."

"But you know that's because he doesn't want to," Mae pushed. "He wants-"

"Mae. I know you think you're helping but really… stop... now."

The sulking face that Elsie had come to know so well slipped into place and Mae collapsed back against her pillows, "Right," she pouted, folding her arms atop of the bed sheets in a very Charles-like way.

As upset as she was at all that had occurred the movement made her smile, "I'm sorry," Elsie said gently. "I don't mean for the two of you to be upset. But this is how things have been for a while now, and it's better this way, really it is." She stared at her two children, their wide-eyes and open expressions. "My babies," she said softly, squeezing Lily's leg again before she got to her feet.

She headed towards the door, looking back over her shoulder at them. "If you're both sleeping in here then make sure you don't stay up too late. Maybe we could go out for breakfast in the morning, just the three of us."

Lily and Mae nodded slowly, sadly.

"Good. We'll go somewhere nice. Night night."

"Night mum," Lily replied as Elsie closed the door. "So, that's the end of that then," Lily sighed heavily, leaning against her sister. "At least we tried."

"You give up far too easily, kiddo."

"I don't want to upset Mum any more. She was really shaken up tonight. And Dad didn't look too pleased when he left either."

"Yeah, but that just means we've got to try harder to get them to see sense."

"If they don't want each other then there isn't any point."

Mae looked at her younger sister as if she was stupid. "Do you really think Dad doesn't want Mum?"

"No, but maybe Mum doesn't want Dad," Lilly replied.

"If she doesn't want then why, even after five years, does she still wear her wedding ring on a chain around her neck?"

"You're making that up! I've never seen it."

"Well no, it's hidden under her clothes, but believe me it's there."

"So, what do we do now then?"

"Well it's Mum's fortieth in a few weeks, don't forget, maybe we can arrange something for then?"

"Dad needs to get her an ace present," Lily decided, being drawn back into the planning.

"Well we can help him with that," Mae replied. "When Grandma Carson takes us shopping next week, we can scope out some ideas."

Mae turned out the light, and Lily whispered into the darkened room. "Are you sure this won't upset them anymore?"

"It's for their own good." Mae said, with her mother's air of confidence and determination.


	5. Chapter 5

_Apologies for the slight delay in posting this update - we're both back at work now which interferes with our writing time!_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 **2006 - Bonfire Celebrations - What Elsie Remembers**

Standing in the garden in her wellingtons with Lily in her arms Elsie watched as Charles set up the fireworks, a torch in between his teeth and the instructions in his hand - he must have read them a hundred times that week.

"Mae, sweetie, don't get too close to where Daddy's working."

Mae was six and as sharp as a pin point. She knew how it all worked now - Birthdays, Christmas, Easter, Hallowe'en, Bonfire Night - at school the topics were built around these things, this week she'd brought home a rocket she'd made out of toilet roll tubes, it was daubed in blue paint (her favourite colour) and she'd painted Charles (her favourite person) on the side of it as if he were flying the firework.

"Mae…" Elsie warned again.

"Yes mummy?"

"Come stand with me now honey, Daddy's almost done."

The little girl did as Elsie asked and once she was beside her Elsie pulled her hood up over her ears. She was already wearing a woolly hat (as part of her Hallowe'en cat costume) but she wanted to be sure her daughter didn't catch a cold and the November air was particularly chilly that night.

"Can I have another hot dog Mummy?"

"Maybe. When we've finished the fireworks."

"Right…" Charles said, getting to his feet. "I think we're ready. I've worked this thing so it should time right."

"Come on then darling, it's freezing out here."

He moved back to join them in front of the conservatory and watched as Elsie pulled a pair of earmuffs onto Lily's head.

"Hey chicken," he tickled Lily's chin and she giggled at him, she was still sucking her thumb (something Elsie hated but Charles thought she'd stop when ready) and a dribble of spit worked its way down her chin and onto Charles' fingers.

"Eww, gross!" Mae proclaimed.

"You ready?" he asked his eldest daughter and she nodded enthusiastically. "Here we go then!"

At the first bang Mae gripped onto her mother's hand, at the second she was almost in her pocket and Elsie found herself kneeling on the slightly damp patio with one arm wrapped tightly around Mae and the other arm cradling an excited Lily.

"See, it's just the bang as the chemicals mix, nothing to be scared of." She kissed Mae's head, "Mummy wouldn't let anything hurt you."

Mae nodded uncertainly, "Daddy?" she asked. "When will they be done?"

Elsie smiled as Charles' face dropped - he'd worked so hard on setting them up, had spent an age in the store choosing the right selection. She gave him an imploring look until he caught on and scooped Mae up into his arms, "Now then, that better, now Daddy's got you?"

She snuggled against his broad chest and his strong arms held her tight, whispering about the colours and shapes of the fireworks as they exploded in the night sky.

Half-an-hour later, as she sat eating a hotdog at the kitchen table with her father, her fear at the loud noises had been forgotten. Elsie had put Lily to bed and for a while lingered by the kitchen door watching them. Charles had laid out a sheet of black paper and together they covered it in PVA glue before sprinkling all manner of glitter, stars and gemstones across it, re-creating what they'd seen in the night sky.

"See how pretty that looks?" he said gently. "This is going to look great on your bedroom wall."

"What if the gems fall off?"

"They won't. Daddy's going to take it to work and get it laminated for you, which means it'll be covered in plastic so nothing can move. You can keep it forever."

"Should we sign our names?" Mae asked, kneeling on her chair to stick a giant silver star at the top of the page.

"I know, something better. Here…" he squeezed out a dollop of white paint onto his empty dinner plate. "Stick your thumb in there. Do you know Mae-bae that every human's fingerprint is unique?"

"What's that mean?"

"It means that," he turned her hand over in his. "See how you have all these lines on your fingers?"

"Yeah."

"And I have the same on mine, see?"

"Yes."

"But our lines make different patterns."

"And Mummy's too?"

"And Mummy's, and Lil's, and Grandpa and Grandma, everyone in the world, billions of people…"

"Is that a lot?"

"A whole lot. More than all the specks of gold glitter in this little tube."

"Wow. And we all have different lines?"

"Yep. Different fingerprints."

"Ew. Neek?"

He smiled, "Unique. Yes. So, how about we put our thumb prints at the bottom of this page, side-by-side, and then the date and then when you're much older you can look at it and remember and think there's my thumb print from when I was six."

"And Daddy's too."

They pressed their thumbs down together next to the each other at the bottom right corner of the page and Mae sat back proudly, noticing her mother by the kitchen door.

"Mummy, come look what we made!"

"I see sweetheart, it's very beautiful."

"Come put your thumb here too so I can see how different it looks."

Elsie made her way to the table, pressing her hands down on Charles' shoulders as she surveyed the glittering fireworks. He was so good with their children, much better than she was.

"Oh, I haven't helped darling. I shouldn't 'sign' the picture."

Mae frowned for a moment as if thinking it through before reaching across the table and taking hold of a pink star, "Here, stick this on then you will have helped."

Chuckling, Elsie did as she was asked and then placed her thumbprint at the other side of Mae's on the page.

"That's all three of us now." Mae said, pointing at them. "Daddy. Me. And Mummy."

* * *

"She go down alright?" Charles asked from where he lay in bed.

"Yes, both of them are flat out. We should have evenings like this more often, they sleep instantly."

"Excitement and adrenaline."

"Mmm."

He watched as she brushed her hair and wiped her face free of make-up.

"You make a sexy witch, Mrs Carson."

"Do I indeed?" She slipped her dressing gown off. "Can't get Mae out of her outfit, I'm sure she'll be wearing it until she gets to wear her Christmas Elf dress."

"I'm glad she made you keep yours on too."

She smiled, tying her hair back. "I have to say, I've always had a soft spot for Meg."

"Who?"

"The Meg and Mog books, I've been reading them with the girls this week and I remembered them from when I was younger. Isn't that odd?"

"Kinda cute."

She crawled into bed, lifting back the quilt from where it covered his body and straddling his legs.

"Now then, Mrs Carson. What's all this?" He teased, pushing up her nightgown to her waist.

"Have you forgotten so quickly?"

"Hmm, remind me…"

They were both smiling as they leant in to kiss, his hand wandering down to grip her bottom, her fingers tracing patterns across the back of his neck.

"Nice night," he whispered.

"It was. I'm sorry you tried so hard with the fireworks and she got scared."

"I'll live on."

"She'll get braver with it, once she gets used to it."

"I'm glad we got out of the other parties, I rather liked it just being the four of us."

"So did I."

"My family."

She smiled as she kissed him again, letting him roll her over and remove the nightgown completely so he could adorn her skin with kisses.

Later, when she was gasping his name in hushed tones, he'd yelled his pleasure and she'd covered his mouth with her palm. "Shh," she'd giggled, "you'll wake them."

"Seems like an age since we've done this," he panted by her ear, kissing across her shoulder blade. "I missed you."

"It's not that long." She twisted his chin around until she could kiss his mouth again, sliding her tongue along his, leaving him breathless. "Now, stop talking." She kissed him quickly. "And stop moaning so loud, be careful."

His response was to make her gasp in pleasure, her nails digging into his shoulder, "Oh, don't stop Charles." She closed her eyes, tilted her head back until he kissed down her neck, his hips rolling with hers.

"And be careful with that too," she whispered, fingers sliding into his hair. "...Careful. I don't want another..."

He stilled above her, confused, "Another?"

"You know what I mean." She clutched his shoulder. "Don't stop." She pushed her hips up to his.

" _Another_? Another what? Child?"

"Charles. Comes on, you know what I meant."

"You make them sound like something you pick up at the store."

"I did not."

"I don't want 'another'!" He said incredulously.

"You know I don't want a third child, I'd like to go back to work before I'm too old and decrepit to be of any use."

"You're ' _of use_ ' here, in our home."

"There's more to me than being a mother, Charles."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Please, let's not argue whilst you're still inside me!"

He shifted quickly, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom.

"Charles! This is ridiculous. We've had a lovely evening."

"Forget it." He said, shutting the door after him.

"Oh, bloody hell," she muttered to herself. She'd certainly wrecked that particular moment.

She turned over in bed, curling beneath the thick quilt. Whenever she even mentioned, or breathed a word about returning to work, he got edgy, uncomfortable. But surely he couldn't expect her to stay at home forever? It had been six years since Mae was born, six years of putting her career on hold. And now, as they were preparing to start taking Lily to nursery, it seemed the perfect time for her to contemplate taking on a few days, easing herself back in.

It worried her just how stubborn Charles seemed about it all. But what worried her more was that the longer she stayed at home, the more she resented it, and the more she resented him for not having to.

* * *

 **2009 - Halloween Celebrations - What Charles Remembers**

Charles checked on the jacket potatoes in the oven and turned the temperature down slightly, it would be another hour before the girls' guests arrived and he didn't want to serve them chargrilled vegetables. Mae and Lily were putting the finishing touches to the decorations in the conservatory and he watched them for a moment, proud at how well they worked together.

The hallway, kitchen and conservatory were a veritable scarefest. In the hall there were blood splattered hand prints leading down the wall, the outside door had been covered with a 'DANGER! KEEP OUT!' sign and the girls had placed Mae's ipod speakers behind the entrance and put spooky music on loop.

In the kitchen was a huge plastic cauldron which Charles had filled with a selection of candy, chocolate and odd creepy things. Elsie had purchased the decorations when shopping with the girls the previous week and there were all manner of bugs - giant spiders and glowing centipedes - the whole thing freaked him out but the girls were seemingly delighted with it all. Especially when Elsie had got in from work and mixed up two jugs of coloured lemonade - one blood red, the other a vibrant green.

"Just nipping to check your mum's okay," he called to them. "No messing with the food."

Mae stuck her tongue out at him and he returned the gesture before making his way upstairs, two at a time.

Elsie's work clothes were abandoned on the bed and he hung her jacket before making his way into their en suite.

"Pretty spooky down there now," he said to her silhouette in the shower.

"Mmm, have you got your outfit on yet?"

"I feel a fool dressing as a zombie for a kids' party."

"I know. But we did promise them."

"Yep." He slipped his t-shirt off and was toeing off his socks when the idea to sneak in there with her occured to him. She'd been late home, again, rushing in with the lemonade and salvaging the girls' disappointment with her over not being there to help with the decorations. He'd kept quiet, of late anytime he mentioned anything to do with her business or the time it kept her away from their family inevitably led to an argument.

She'd even suggested they consider getting a nanny. They were both at work so often and it was getting harder to juggle who would pick them up from school or be there when they got the school bus home. He'd shot the idea down immediately, he didn't want a stranger with his children, he wanted to know they were coming home to their mother. They were both mature enough and intelligent enough to balance their time management between them, _surely_.

Easing open the door the steam instantly caressed his body and he breathed in the familiar scent of her body wash. Placing a hand on her lower back he stepped in behind her, his mouth finding the side of her neck.

"Charles," she warned. "We don't have time for this."

"Just a quick cuddle."

She shifted her head, moving to rinse the last of the bubbles from her skin. "I know what a 'quick cuddle' leads to." She shifted again as his arm slid around her waist, holding her tighter.

"I can't recall the last time we had a cuddle."

"Maybe later, if we have time." She struggled to move with his arm about her. "Charles, please, I can't rinse myself if you're doing that." She moved forcefully from his embrace and within thirty seconds was clean and getting out of the shower. "I'll leave you a clean towel out here." She said as she passed him, leaving him standing beneath the faucet with the water dripping over his face.

* * *

 **2015 - Friday 6th November**

Friday night and Elsie had just got in from work. Mae was upstairs dressing, she was heading out to watch the fireworks with Charles and Lily, and for the first time in years Elsie hadn't been invited.

She opened the fridge door and took out a half empty bottle of wine, pouring herself a glass and slipping off her heels as she drank. Mae's Wellington boots stood by the side of the kitchen table and she felt a pang of jealousy at the fact she hadn't even needed to dig her own out of the box in the garage.

"You're not going like that!" Elsie proclaimed as Mae came into the kitchen wearing jeans and a cropped top. "You'll bloody well freeze to death, not to mention the fact your father will kill me."

"Duh! I'm gonna put a coat on, and a scarf, and a hat and maybe, _maybe_ mother, gloves too!"

"Don't be sarcastic with me. I'm-"

"Tired, yeah I know," she said pointedly, sitting down on the kitchen floor and yanking on thick socks followed by her boots.

"You coming home after, or staying with your father tonight?"

"Going to Dad's, we're having burgers and marshmallows, as usual."

Elsie chewed down on her bottom lip – the marshmallows had always been her speciality, they'd roast giant ones and have them on chocolate biscuits and she'd make hot chocolate to go with them and the four of them would freeze together in the backyard watching Charles set off fireworks.

For the first time she felt the beginnings of tears sting her eyes, even when he'd 'left' he'd still been such a permanent fixture in their day-to-day lives that in some ways she could pretend he was still there. Now, given the fact they hadn't seen each other or even spoken since their argument, she pretty much guessed her bridges had been burnt.

"Can't get this one on!" Mae complained, fighting with her left wellington boot. "Get the door mum, would you?"

Elsie hadn't even heard it ring but she dutifully stepped over her daughter's legs, glass of wine still in hand, and steeled herself for greeting Charles at the door.

Instead, she found a rather sheepish Lily staring back at her. "Hi mum, is Mae ready?"

"Where's your father?"

"In the car…"

"Oh," she was rather taken aback by that information. "Oh, well, you'd better come in, your sister's struggling with her boot."

Lily rushed past her and Elsie glanced down the driveway to where Charles sat in his car, resolutely staring straight ahead, lest the temptation of looking up and catching sight of her got the better of him.

"Childish idiot," she muttered to herself, slamming the door shut.

* * *

Charles grumbled to himself as the car inched forward in the long queue for parking at the local park. "These things should be better organised."

Rolling her eyes at her father, Lily turned to Mae and asked, "Do you think Mum will be okay on her own tonight?"

"Well it's her own fault, she's been in a lousy mood for the past two weeks; you've not had to live with her."

"Only cos I don't have the option."

"You should count yourself lucky on that score. She's been a right bitch."

"Who are you talking about?" Charles asked, glancing at them in the rear view mirror.

"Mother. She's been a nightmare to live with the last couple of weeks. I've got enough going on, without having to put up with her snappy comments. She can be really selfish at times," Mae grumbled, looking out of the window.

Charles was shocked to hear his eldest daughter speak about her mother in that way and immediately his desire to protect Elsie came into play as he uncharacteristically shouted at Mae. "Don't let me ever hear you speak that way about your mother again!"

Both girls shrank back in their seats; their father had never been the one to reprimand them, it had been their mother who had always been the rule enforcer, and his voice had far more power than hers when angry.

Charles continued to defend Elsie, oblivious to what he was saying as his emotions took over. "You'll never meet _any_ woman as decent and generous as your mother. You two are lucky to have her, and don't you ever forget it."

"Dad..." Lily said gently, her voice uncertain.

"No, you both need to hear this. Whatever happens between your mother and I, I will always have the utmost respect for her because she's one of the most wonderful people I've ever had the privilege of knowing."

"If she's so wonderful then why did you leave her?" Mae asked, her voice as sharp and hard as her father's as she spoke.

Catching their eyes in the mirror he swallowed awkwardly, they looked so young to him right then, and their expressions so very like their mother. How could he answer that for them when he couldn't even answer it for himself?

The car behind beeped its horn and he glanced forward, noticing the gap between him and the car in front. Putting the car into first he slid forward on the mud. Elsie hadn't been the only one unsettled by that night in her kitchen – too many things had been left unsaid for far too long and in that short argument so much had been revealed without being resolved.

Since that night he'd replayed, reviewed and analysed his decision to leave some seven years ago. At the time he believed it was for the best. Now, he wasn't sure what to believe.

* * *

Later, as they stood by the bonfire, Lily was munching her way through candy floss and Mae took the opportunity to sneak in next to her father and link her arm with his. She leant her head against his upper arm. "Sorry Dad," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you, or be rude about Mum."

Charles sighed heavily, Lord knows he knew plenty about guilt, and as mature as Mae liked to believe she was, she was still only a child. He shifted his arm and curled it around her instead, holding her close against him and kissing the top of her head. He recognised Elsie's perfume and wondered if she knew her daughter had stolen it from her dressing table.

"You know what sweetheart, the only reason you and your Mum clash so much is that you're so much alike. Sometimes so much it's scary." He hugged her close again before continuing, "and that's a great thing - you've got her drive and determination which means you'll succeed no matter what."

"Sometimes I feel like she expects so much of me that I can't possibly ever live up to what she wants."

He kissed her head. "You have already surpassed any expectations that she had of what having a daughter would be like, trust me. And if you feel like she's tough on you, remember it only because she wants the best for you, and none of us are perfect. Except of course, our little Lil."

Mae chuckled. "Hmm," she responded non-committedly.

"Your mum loves you, never doubt that. Whether you get straight A*s or you fail completely…"

"Thanks Dad!" She said rolling her eyes, in a very Elsie-esque manner.

"Well sometimes you just have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and together we'll find a way through it."

She momentarily bit down on her bottom lip as she contemplated her next sentence. "Y'know Dad, I think perhaps sometimes you need to take your own advice." Leaving him to ponder her wise words, which were far beyond her age, she hollered to her sister, "Hey save some of that candy floss for me kiddo!"

Charles stood watching as his two daughters, lit by the orange glow of the bonfire behind them, held the giant candy floss between them and counted down from three before plunging their faces into the pink stickiness. Laughing, he took his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture, quickly texting it to Elsie with the caption, _'Look what we made. Xx'._ He didn't even debate over whether or not to include kisses, his sentiment was genuine.

* * *

Elsie watched as Beryl took the jacket potatoes from the oven and dropped them into a bowl. "You sure you don't mind me butting in?" she asked.

"Course not, love I'm just surprised that's all, you always spend Bonfire Night with the girls… And Charlie."

"Yes, well, my invite must have got lost in the post this year."

Beryl momentarily turned from the oven to fix her friend with a sympathetic stare, but Elsie's eyes were focused on the collection of family photographs that adorned the kitchen wall. "Have you finished grating that cheese for me yet?"Beryl asked.

She refocused on the empty bowl in front of her and the giant lump of cheddar that was waiting to be grated. Just as she picked up the grater, her phone bleeped in her coat pocket. She dug it out and swiped her finger across the screen to reveal the photo from Charles… Their gorgeous daughters looking so very happy.

When Beryl turned around again to place the bowl of potatoes on the table, she almost dropped them when she noticed the tears silently spelling down Elsie's face. "Elsie, whatever's happened?"

Elsie passed the phone to her closest friend, wiping hastily at her face with the back of her hand as she did so.

"Oh Els..." She sank into the chair beside her, placing her hand on Elsie's arm. "I kept thinking that the two of you would just suddenly find a way to work all this out, but years have gone by…"

"And we haven't." She wiped her face again. "Maybe I kept thinking that too. Maybe that's why I didn't pursue legally putting an end to things, or even contemplated the idea of dating someone else."

Beryl rubbed her arm soothingly. "The problem was he didn't keep his part of the deal, did he? He doesn't appear to be spending his life in agony, pining for you.."

At her friend's words, a fresh set of tears cascaded down her cheeks and she leant her face against her friend's arm, grateful for the warm hug she was drawn into.

"Tell me really, why have you two never divorced?"

"Oh, I can give you a hundred reasons." She pulled out of the hug, leaning back in her chair. "The girls, our house, the businesses, our bank accounts, his parents, the-"

"Just give me the one that really matters," Beryl interrupted, fixing her friend with a meaningful look.

"Because I still love him." She breathed deeply, her chest feeling like it was shaking as she spoke. "But it seems like he no longer loves me, in fact I think he stopped loving me the day I went back to work." To distract herself from her words she repetitively turned the fork that lay on the table in front of her, "I wish he still did. But whatever it was I had that made him fall in love with me the first time round, I clearly don't have anymore."

Beryl let out a long breath, her cheeks puffing out as she exhaled. "Elsie, that man adores the bones of you. If after five years, he's not found somebody, or even looked – for God's sake, he's a man and he's not even found someone to keep his bed warm!" She shook her head, "Then you're fooling yourself if you think you don't still have his heart." She patted the back of Elsie's hand, stilling the movement of the fork. "Now, you'd better get that cheese grated because the brood'll be coming in a minute for dinner. So wipe your face and I'll make us some Irish coffee after dinner and we'll continue this chat then."

* * *

"Tonight was weird… without Mum there," Lily commented as she flopped down on her bed.

"I thought it was nice to have a break from her, actually."

"Don't say that."

"What? Like I said before, you don't have to live with her."

"No. I don't," Lily replied sadly.

Mae felt the guilt creep in at her words. They both made the best of the pretty screwed up family situation they found themselves in but she knew that Lily missed their Mum and would give anything to live with both their parents. She was the same. She sat down on the floor, her back resting against the side of Lily's bed. "Sorry. I do love her. She's just doing my head in a bit that's all."

"And I bet you're done nothing to wind her up, _right_!"

Mae considered her sister's words. "You may have a small point," she relented. "But I'm stressed; I'm allowed to be grumpy. Year eleven is no fun, believe me. Enjoy school while you can, kiddo."

"Mum's stressed too. You can tell just by looking at her."

"She needs to get laid!"

"Ewwwww!"

Mae giggled. "Sorry kiddo, but I'm right. Perhaps she'll be more relaxed after her birthday when she and Dad will hopefully have-"

Lily clamped her hands over her ears. "Please don't finish that sentence!" she begged.

Mae shook her head at her younger sister's embarrassment. "Well, what do you think will happen when our plan succeeds?"

"I don't know. I'm trying not to think about that side of it too much. I don't need the mental image." Lily turned onto her back, "You think we'll all live together again?"

Mae shrugged, "I dunno. Hope so. It was nice when we did."

"Yeah. It was." Lily stared at her sister, "I hope mum's not lonely tonight."

"I think Dad's lonely too," Mae countered. "Even if we are here, he's still lonely. At least Mum has friends, Dad seems real solitary at times."

"What's that mean?"

"Like a loner, you know, solo."

"You think Mum was his best friend?"

"Deffo. Still is."

"I hope I marry my best friend."

"What the hell for?" Mae said without thinking, then she relented, turning her attention from her phone and to her sister. "As long as it doesn't turn out like our parents, hey."

"Well, we're going to fix that. You promised me." She clambered into bed, switching her bedside lamp off.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I…" Mae wasn't sure reuniting her parents was going to be quite the straightforward task she originally thought it would be. Still, she was nothing if not persistent.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **2015**

Charles sighed as he scanned the items on the computer screen - he'd been searching for a birthday gift for Elsie for almost an hour and nothing he'd seen had been suitable. None of his usual 'go to' gifts – scarves, books, toiletries – would do, not for her fortieth. And jewellery was too intimate. Before their argument, he had been considering a necklace or bracelet, but now he didn't think something like that would be appreciated. Especially given his actions on bonfire night.

If he was honest, he'd still been full of anger at what had transpired after their near kiss, at the insinuation that he had behaved no better than Casanova back in 2012, so he'd deliberately not invited her to spend the evening with them.

The guilt had seeped into his stomach as soon as he and the girls had arrived at the park, like some dark creature curling around his innards: they'd been so giddy and having so much fun and she hadn't been there to see it; his decision, his fault. Hence his decision to send her the photo of them. That way, even though she had not been there, she could still experience the joy that their two daughters could bring. She hadn't replied though, which was unusual when his messages concerned the girls, and he feared that he may have done more harm than good. All because he had been in a petty, childish mood.

Whatever present he purchased for Elsie had to function as both a fortieth birthday gift and an apology as well. But it was difficult to know what she wanted or needed, not living with her anymore. It was reminiscent of her first birthday after he'd met her…

* * *

 **November 1993**

He and Elsie had been friends for almost a month when he'd found out it was soon to be her birthday. He wanted to buy her something special but he didn't want to frighten her by giving her a gift that was too intimate. He knew he was developing feelings for her, had known very early on that he wanted to date her, but he still had no clue how she felt about him. Due to the need to strike a delicate balance with his gift, it took him weeks to come to a decision. And he was still worrying about if he'd made the right one, even after it had been bought and wrapped and he was on his way to meet her to celebrate.

She'd mentioned a love of William Makepeace Thackery in passing during one of their first library study sessions and when he'd spotted an old copy of Vanity Fair - not quite a first edition but not far off – in the window of The Minster Gate Bookshop he knew he had to buy it for her. He also bought her a pair of gloves to add a bit of light relief and temper any unwanted connotations that his main gift may have – her cold hands had quickly become a running joke within their group of friends, and she was constantly borrowing gloves or stuffing her hand into other people's pockets, normally his.

"I thought they'd come in handy," he explained as she peeled back the paper, careful not to tear it. The bar where their friends had chosen to celebrate in was noisy, so he had to lean in close as he continued. "You know, it being winter and all."

"I'm sure they will, thanks. Although now I shall have to come up with a new excuse to share your pocket. Perhaps as it becomes icy I shall need you to help me feel steady?"

He eyes sparkled, and he'd wanted to kiss her there and then but she'd been drinking, a lot, and the last thing he wanted to do was take advantage. "You can always hold my hand if you need to feel steady," he offered.

Her face lit up as she smiled at his gentle flirtation. Leaning in closer, so close he could feel her breath on the side of his neck, she whispered, "Well, you never know, one day soon you may get lucky."

He swallowed, and shifted away from her before he gave into the temptation to press his lips against hers. "There's… there's something else in there," he told her, gesturing to the half unwrapped gift.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she ran her fingers over the embossed writing on the front cover. "I love Thackery! How did you know?"

"You mentioned it once… In the library I think."

"And you remembered? Oh Charles!" She turned to him and cupped his face with her free hand. Leaning in she placed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."

As she sat back and took a sip of the new cocktail Beryl had bought her, he lifted his hand to where her lips had grazed his cheek. The weeks of agonising over what to buy had definitely been worth it.

* * *

 **2015 - present day**

Charles smiled as he remembered that night; she'd held his hand as they'd walked back to the student village, claiming she wasn't used to walking in heels and needed to feel steady, smiling coyly at him. As he'd dropped her off at her halls, she told him that his was the best present she'd received. If only he could find a present that would be as well received now.

After another fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, he was ready to give up, and was just about to click off the page when an advert in the sidebar caught his eye. The Devonshire Arms Country Hotel and Spa. He thought about how tired and stressed she'd been – Mae's complaints about her mother's mood hadn't lessened in the last week, but they hadn't been as harsh for fear of angering her father. She was stressed too, her coursework was piling up and he knew things would only get worse before they got better, she had her final exams at the end of the year after all. The cogs started turning in his head. All three of them could go. Elsie and Mae could both do with a break, and it would be well deserved; they both worked so hard. Lily would enjoy being pampered too; it would make her feel grown up.

He clicked through to the page, and his eyes scanned the booking information. He chose a weekend after new year but before Valentine's Day, a period that was usually quiet for Elsie's business, and booked them in for two nights and a selection of treatments.

He sat back in his chair, satisfied with his success. He doubted his choice of gift would elicit the same response as a rare copy of Vanity Fair and a pair of woollen mittens had, but hopefully she'd accept it in the spirit that it had been gifted.

* * *

 **2015**

Angela Carson watched from across the restaurant as her two granddaughters leant in together at their table, foreheads almost touching as they whispered and shared secrets. They were the picture of elegance and she was proud of them; they were both turning into the image of their mother - something Angela was immensely grateful for.

She sighed, striding confidently across the restaurant and back to their table, her son had been a damned fool to let Elsie go. And clearly he'd made a mistake, or he wouldn't still be single five years on. Elsie was a smart woman, sharp, intelligent, and Angela respected her, she always had. She may not have come from the same class of family as they themselves were but she worked hard and she played the part well, and more importantly these girls (whom Angela loved more than anything on the earth) were perfect young ladies. So, despite her early concerns about the pairing between her beloved son and this Scottish girl, it had turned out marvellously... until, of course, five years ago, when Charles had turned up on her doorstep with his suitcase. It was the first and only time Angela could recall her son crying on her shoulder. She didn't want to blame him, she didn't want to blame Elsie; she'd watched them try to make it work, battle the line between family, marriage, work, for many years. She knew the same battle. And Charles had been so staunch in his defence of Elsie, the love had never gone, only the ability to get along.

"So, you two," she said sitting down and watching them part. "Shall we order dessert now?"

"Did they have those ice-cream sundaes here Granny?" Lily asked.

"You know they do," Mae teased. "So, can we have those, Gran? That's what she means."

"I'm thinking one chocolate and one strawberry."

"Totally," Mae said.

"Totally!" Lily copied.

Angela rolled her eyes, "No American sass, butchered the English language."

"Gran…" Mae complained, sliding her phone out of her pocket. "That's mean."

"Just accurate," she snapped her fingers, "no phones at the dining table darling, it lacks etiquette."

Lily giggled as Mae sheepishly put the phone away, her cheeks reddening.

They watched as their Gran signalled to the waiter and placed their sundae orders and a pot of tea for herself.

"Now," she said, folding her hands beneath her chin. "Do you two want to enlighten me as to what you're plotting?"

"We're…!" Lily said quickly but Mae cut her off.

"It's not plotting, Granny, not really. It's more… _assisting_."

Angela glanced to her folded hands and suppressed a smile, Mae had the same sharp mind as her mother.

"We just want to _assist_ Mum and Dad."

"Assist how?"

"You know mum's birthday…?" Mae explained. "Well, we were kinda hoping."

"Kind of," Angela corrected.

"Yes, kind 'of' hoping that we might get them together at the party."

Angela leant back in her chair, contemplating her grandchildren. "And how will you achieve that?"

"Mummy's jel," Lily said.

"Jel?"

"She means jealous. You see, Dad had a date, a few weeks ago now and it didn't go anywhere or anything but Mum got jealous, we both saw it. And it's the first time, you know, since they split up, that one of them has had a date and… something changed, because of that."

"Daddy doesn't want another wife and we don't want another mum," Lily said, and the tone in her voice caused Angela to reach over and pat the young girl's hand.

"Nobody wants that sweetheart, but your parents have been apart for a long time now."

"They want to be together!" Mae proclaimed. "We know they do. But they're just not telling each other that."

"So we have to make them see," Lily added.

"You two have been watching too many Disney films," Angela smiled, quietening them as the waiter brought their order. It wouldn't do to speak of private matters in front of the staff. "And what, pray tell, is my role in all of this? As I assume I have one." She poured her tea, adding the slightest hint of milk.

"We want to get Mum a fantastic present, something that will make her go all gooey and stuff," Lily said, tucking her napkin into the top of her dress.

"Something expensive!" Mae said forcefully, she hadn't even touched her ice cream yet.

"Ah, and so now I see. You know how your father feels about my subsidising your pocket money."

"But this isn't for us, Granny, is it? It's for them, and we need to get them back together."

Angela's mouth twisted as she turned the idea over in her mind, she sipped her tea, giving her granddaughters time to sweat as she considered her response.

"Alright," she said, placing her tea cup back in the saucer. "I will help you. We can go to Silverado first, they're bound to have something unique yet gorgeous." The girls were just about to cheer in response but their Gran held up her hand to silence them. "But. We'll need more than a gift. We need music, lighting, wine, food, the whole atmosphere has to be right. Black tie, of course, that's a given, I do hope Anna's already planned for that."

The girls exchanged a 'look'.

"And your Mother will need a fabulous dress. Something outstanding." She smiled as she refilled her tea cup. "Truly outstanding."

* * *

As Charles descended the stairs following his shower he could hear raucous laughter coming from the living room. The girls had spent the afternoon shopping with his mother – and come home laden with bags of new clothes, as usual – and they were spending the night at his house as Elsie had a big event, the culmination of weeks of planning and organising.

"Look at you there!" he heard Lily giggle. "That jumper!"

"Awful wasn't it?" Mae agreed. "I hated it even at five. God knows what Mum was thinking!"

Charles poked his head around the door frame and found the girls sat on the floor surrounded by photo albums. Lily was holding a picture of a five-year-old Mae at a birthday party. "Actually I bought that jumper," he admitted.

"Oh well that explains it then," replied Lily with a smirk. Their father wasn't exactly renowned for his fashion sense.

"Charming!" he replied, joining the girls on the floor and picking up a photograph: Mae and Lily's first joint school photo. "So, what's prompted this little trip down memory lane?"

"Grandma Carson asked us to look for some photos, she's going to have Aunt Beryl put some on Mum's cake," Lily explained.

"Oh, I'm sure your mother will love that!" he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Just don't pick any that are too embarrassing will you?"

"We'll try not to," Mae agreed, sifting through yet another pile of photos before dissolving into giggles. "Oh Dad! Your hair!"

He reached for the photo but Mae was too quick for him, passing it to Lily who also found her Dad's 90's look hilarious. "It's so dark," she commented, looking from the faded image to her Dad's greying hair.

"That's probably because it was before I had you two; less stress," he joked, and Mae and Lily both stuck their tongues out at him in perfect sync.

He plucked the photo from out of Lily's grasp and smiled at the image. It was a pretty candid shot, taken on top of the city walls one Sunday afternoon. He can't remember who took it, possibly Beryl, but he remembered exactly what he'd been looking at, what had caused that smile to appear on his face.

"You look happy Dad," Mae observed. "What were you looking at?" She winked at Lily; from his smile in the photo and the wistful look on his face now, she had a pretty good idea, but was determined to prompt him into revealing more, perhaps that would help him realise what he was missing, what he needed to win back.

"Your mother," Charles replied as Mae had known he would. "The wind was blowing and her hair was everywhere. She was laughing at something, I can't remember what, I just remember in that moment…" He trailed off, as the memories assaulted him.

"What Daddy?" Lily asked, her voice sweet and tiny. "What do you remember?" She slid up to him, laying her head against his arm.

"That was the moment I knew I loved her." He curled his arm around Lily, holding her close to him. "I was only a kid myself but I knew. This was the moment I decided I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her." His voice was choked with emotion but he fought back the tears; it wouldn't do for the girls to see him cry.

Mae and Lily shared a look. "Oh Dad!"

Lily flipped a few pages of the photo album by her knee and stopped on a photo of their mum on her wedding day. "She really was beautiful," she whispered.

"She still is."

Mae was nothing if not resourceful, and she quickly sensed that now was the perfect time to push their plan a little further. "It's not too late you know Dad. You can still spend the rest of your lives together..." She said hopefully.

He shook his head sadly. "Too much has happened."

"But you love her."

"Sometimes Mae-bae," he began, using the pet name she hadn't heard in many years, "love just isn't enough."

A heavy silence fell over the room as Charles stared at the picture of the woman he loved on their wedding day. It had been one of the happiest days of his life, closely followed by the days Mae and Lily had been born. A day full of love and hopes and dreams for the future.

How had it all gone so wrong? How had he let it?

Mae eased herself up off the floor, sensing her Dad needed time alone with his thoughts. "I think I'll grab a shower now you're done," she said. She glared at her a younger sister and jerked her head in the direction of the door.

"And I should probably get ahead on my reading for my history essay."

"Okay, don't go to sleep without saying good night."

"We won't."

And then Charles was alone, surrounded by memories of happier times. He flicked through several albums full of Elsie and their girls and recalled something she'd said a few months ago, after she and Mae had had another of their blazing rows. "Am I such a terrible, mother, Charles? Maybe she's right, maybe I haven't been around enough." Charles had assured her at the time that she had been a wonderful mother, that Mae had just been venting, knowing exactly which buttons to press to get to her Mother, but he didn't think she'd believed him.

Her fears were long-held ones though, they'd had many conversations over the years about her inability to be a good mother - or her perception of what a good mother was. He had no doubts whatsoever about the love and care she gave their children, her mothering was a far cry from the way his own mother had been with him as a child and he'd choose Elsie's approach every single time. But as much as he reassured her, and as much as their children aged and grew in confidence and talent, she still doubted herself and it need only take the smallest of comments and she'd doubt every decision she'd ever made.

As he looked at the collection of photos adorning his living room floor, he was struck by an idea of how to show her how wrong she was. Something tangible to prove that these wonderful, bright, beautiful girls they had together were the result of her choices, her guidance, her love.

Gathering up a selection of photos, he moved to his office to get started.

* * *

Lily lingered outside the bathroom door for a moment, holding onto the door handle and giggling as she listened to her sister singing in the shower.

" _I stay out too late. Got nothing in my brain. That's what people say._ "

Lily pushed open the door and loudly sang, " _Mmm-mmm!_ "

"Lil!" Mae shouted from behind the shower curtain. "Don't do that! I almost peed myself!"

"I couldn't help it. I love that song."

"Yeah, I know, you made us have it on like a thousand times in the car."

Unlike their Mum's house, where there was a main bathroom, an en suite in her mum's bedroom and a downstairs loo, at Dad's there was only the one bathroom, and the shower was over the bath. Lily banged the toilet seat down and plonked herself on top of it, folding her legs beneath her as she did so.

"Can we talk?"

"I'm in the shower kiddo."

"So?" Lily replied. "Please?"

Mae sighed. "Oh go on then." Mae poked her head around the shower curtain, shampoo dripping from her hair. "What is it?"

"Dad looked…" She shrugged, "I dunno… odd, like, lost. Do you think he'll be okay?"

"He will be when they both see sense."

"If they both see sense," Lily corrected, she wasn't quite as sure as her older sister that their plan was going to work.

"Why wouldn't it?"

"You heard him, love isn't always enough."

"Yeah well, in this case, it will be." Mae turned off the water and reached out of the shower for one of her Dad's giant towels. She wrapped it around herself and got out, brushing out her damp hair.

"You think I should have my hair cut off?"

"Why?" Lily asked watching her.

"It's dead long, I could have it short, cropped." She twisted it round as if to show her.

Lily's face twisted into a frown, "No way, I like it how it is. And you can have it all curled for mum's party, like me."

"I want those loose waves in mine," Mae said confidently. "Gran says we can go to the hairdressers that day and get it done."

"Cool. I hope Mum likes the gift we got her from Dad."

"She will."

"I hope Dad doesn't get angry that we did it."

"When Mum sees it and kisses him senseless he won't care less where it came from."

Lily giggled, kicking her legs out in front of her as Mae put on her bra and a pair of jogging bottoms. "That'll be pretty embarrassing."

"Too right, especially if Dad dances."

" _But I keep cruising…_ " Lily sang in a whisper, glancing over to her sister and grinning. " _Can't stop, won't stop moving_."

Mae slapped her sister's arm, "You got too many doubts about all this. Gotta be more like Taylor, shake it off!"

Lily grinned, jumping to her feet, she'd always been the more energetic of the two. " _Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play…_ " she sang loudly and Mae laughed.

"Crazy!" But soon she too was singing along as they jumped and danced about in the bathroom.

Downstairs Charles glanced up at the ceiling as a series of bangs and wallops could be heard - he decided they were either killing each other or dancing.

He gave it a few seconds and when the music started up and their voices filled the small upstairs hallway he just shook his head and listened to them as he worked on his new project. Having girls was nothing if not an eye-opener.

 _'And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake. I shake it off, I shake it off. Heart-breakers gonna break, break, break, break, break. And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake. Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake. I shake it off, I shake it off.'_

* * *

Packing away the last of her things into her briefcase Elsie sank back into her chair and stared at her computer screen and Monday's diary - meeting at 9:30, another at 11 then she was free for the afternoon, which meant she could probably stay in her office and actually get something done.

She closed the application and breathed deeply as she stared at the picture on her backdrop - Mae, Lily and Charles - the three of them together a couple of summers ago, on the beach at Newquay. Charles had been teaching them how to bodyboard and she'd spent seven hours (seven hours!) reading on the beach and hardly seen a thing of them. When they'd finally emerged - with tangled hair and battered limbs - they'd been so tired she'd forced them to take a bath and the pair had been asleep even before room service had arrived. She and Charles had eaten alone in the lounge of her hotel room, she'd been in with the girls, he'd had a single down the hallway. Truth be told he was as tired as the kids and had excused himself for bed before it even turned 20:30.

The picture was of that, the moment they'd traipsed back up the beach to her and she'd laughed at their rosy expressions and happily exhausted faces. She told herself that she'd chosen that picture for how happy and relaxed the girls looked, not for how happy and relaxed Charles looked too. They'd spent a week in Cornwall together that year and she'd never known time to go by so fast.

"Things on your mind?" A voice asked from the door and she glanced up quickly, finding John standing there, as he usually did on a Friday night as they cleared away.

"Hi…" she said, quickly shutting down her computer. "What brings you here on a Saturday?"

"Oh you know, catching up. Not enough hours in the day."

"Very true, I sometimes wonder when I'm going to fit it all in." She stood up, turning to get her jacket from the back of her chair. "I haven't even thought about Christmas shopping yet, and with two girls to buy for that is not a good idea!"

"You got many plans for Christmas?" he asked.

She shrugged, feeling uncertain - usually she would join Charles and the girls at his parents' house, even after the separation she had. But what with the Bonfire night snub the other week she wasn't at all sure where they stood now.

"Not much," she settled on. "You?"

"My brother and sister-in-law have asked me to their's, but I'm not sure. They have a new baby, so I don't want to impose."

She smiled knowingly, "You're not struck by babies?"

"I don't mind them, but I'm not overly enamoured, no. I mean, they don't do anything, do they?"

At this she chuckled, "Try taking care of them twenty-four hours a day you'll think they do plenty." She took her coat down from the stand and slipped it on, buttoning up. It was already after six and dark out, winter already it seemed. "Still, they grow out of that - luckily."

"How old are your girls again?" he asked, stepping back to allow her to exit her office.

"Fifteen and twelve," she told him proudly.

"You don't look old enough to have a teenagers," he replied smoothly.

She felt his arm brush hers as she passed him and turned to lock her office door, and the heady fragrance of cologne - different to Charles', something sharp and vibrant, Charles - she knew - had worn the same one since she'd met him at University, a creature of habit.

John leant his elbow against the wall beside her door, making sure he kept his eyes on her face; he'd been taking it slowly with her for months now, since April and the Easter party. Clearly she was a woman who didn't rush things, which was fine, he could do slow and steady, especially in the bedroom where it mattered most. And something struck him about Elsie Hughes (as she was known at work), something that made him think that putting all this time in would be worth it in the end.

She was maybe five or six years older than him, but you couldn't tell, her arse was still firm and her legs outstanding in the little skirts she wore. Not to mention the way she looked in heels. Sure, he wasn't thrilled at the idea of two kids being around but they had a dad, they wouldn't always be in the house, and besides they were almost adults now, soon they'd be gone and she'd be lonely and in need of some care. And he really did want to take care of her.

"So," he said casually. "Working late on a Saturday, no plans tonight?"

"The girls are with their father, so I plan on having some 'me time'," she said.

He couldn't help the image of her naked and floating in a hot bath springing into his mind. "That sounds good, I'm out with friends for dinner. Only single one, so it's a bit of drag… but I've got to go, my oldest friend's birthday." He touched her fleetingly, his hand low on her back as they turned and began walking towards the elevator. "Hey, it's your birthday coming up soon, isn't it?" He remembered chipping in a fiver for a gift.

"Two weeks tomorrow," she nodded. "The big 4-0"

"Doing anything special to celebrate?"

She turned at the elevator, facing him. He was an attractive man, there was no denying that, and from what she'd heard popular with the ladies in this building. What was it he did - insurance? She couldn't quite recall, but she knew his company's offices were on the same corridor as the three she now rented.

Where Charles was dark and tall, John was built more like a rugby player; with a bronzed complexion and chocolate-brown eyes. He was shorter too, closer to her height, but muscly, clearly he spent a great deal of time at the gym. His wonderful Irish accent enveloped you when he spoke, she thought, and no doubt girls gave him more than half a glance.

She smiled inwardly at that thought. What might it be like, to have a man like him romance her? How might he be different to Charles? Younger, a different life experience, how would that affect it all - dating and the like, bedroom activities…? She'd be the first to admit that her knowledge of dating was incredibly limited, she'd gone from some boy in Junior school (which didn't count), to Joe to Charles. Hardly a wide array of experience. Maybe it would be good to date, maybe it would loosen her up a little, not sleep with him of course - she was in no way ready for that - but it might be fun, to just do something casual.

"I'm having a party thrown for me, actually," she admitted bashfully. "Some fancy thing I think, from the hints the girls have dropped."

"Ohhh, nice. You got a good dress?"

"I'm not allowed to see it until the night, I dread to think what it'll look like! Short and low-cut is my image of hell!"

He laughed - it certainly wasn't his image of hell.

"You know, you could…" she shuffled from one foot to the other, the soles of her feet ached from wearing heels all day. "There are other people from here attending, Anna's organised it, the invites, but you're welcome to come, if you're free, of course."

"I'd love to," he smiled. "Just tell me when and where."

"Well, I guess it would make sense if you came with me. I suppose. If that's not too odd," the lift doors opened. "I mean, you don't have to, but we have a taxi booked and it'll only be myself and the girls in it."

"And they won't mind?"

"Well, no, I shouldn't think so." She shrugged. "You're just a friend coming to the party, Anna may join us in the taxi too, I'm not sure of all the arrangements yet." She stepped into the elevator. "I'll give you the details in the week - oh, but it's black tie!" She rolled her eyes. "My mother-in-law's idea I believe. You got a tux?"

"I have, although I've not had occasion to wear it in a while." He looked himself up and down in the elevator mirror. "Should still fit though."

"Oh, I'm sure it will." She smiled, and then snapped her mouth shut - had she just flirted with another man?! "I mean, well…" she touched the 0 button, "you'll look fine. Have a nice evening."


	7. Chapter 7

_A little flashback to Charles and Elsie's university days and Mae is not too pleased about Elsie's potential date for the party._

 _We hope you continue to enjoy reading as much as we continue to love writing R &R xx_

* * *

 **Chapter 7 - The Attic**

 **2015 - November - Monday evening**

"Mae, enough, I'm not having this argument with you, not tonight!"

"But it's not fair, it's stupid!"

"Mae…" Elsie groaned under her breath, crushing garlic and adding it to the oil in the pan. She sprinkled in chili flakes and opened the drawer to take out a spoon.

"Dad adds more chili," Mae insisted, taking the pot from the side and adding more.

"I don't want it too hot." She snatched the jar back and shoved it into the cupboard.

"Is that because you're snogging this new guy?"

"Don't be ridiculous, it isn't like that, I just know him from work is all."

"But you're bringing him to YOUR party as YOUR date!"

"Exactly, Mae, _my_ party. So I can bring whom I like."

"I don't want him there."

"That may well be but it's my choice, and there are other work colleagues going. Why is it such an issue to you?"

"That's not the plan, mum."

"What plan?"

"Nothing." She watched as Elsie added tomatoes to the pan, Mae stirred the mixture as Elsie reduced the heat and they stood watching it as Elsie threw in olives and capers. "How do you think Dad will feel, you bringing a man?"

"Your Dad can bring someone, your Father and I are adults Mae, and friends too. Whatever else I want him to be happy."

"He won't bring anyone though, will he?" She let go of the spoon, knowing full well it would slip into the mixture and Elsie would have to fish it out again.

Moving to where her iPod lay on the table she flicked through it before settling on an album and pressing play; the music filled the kitchen and she turned the volume down slightly - her Mother was pretty cool when it came to music but only if it wasn't loud enough to bother the neighbours. Kneeling on a chair at the table she turned the page on her art book and began pushing things around the page, tapping her hand against the page in time with the beat of the song.

"To let me dangle at a cruel angle, while my feet don't touch the floor!" She sang loudly, the song deliberately chosen to make a point to her Mother. "You do such damage, how do you manage, crawling back for more…" She picked up the glue stick and began daubing it on the images she'd chosen for the collage page."

The words of the song were not lost on Elsie. "If you've got something to say to me Mae, just say it. I'm too old for games."

"Are you? I'm not!" She realised she could be quite the little bitch when she wanted to be, especially with her mother. It was a strange kind of power, knowing that as much as Elsie might punish her and shout at her she'd still love her - a sobering thought too. She remembered her Dad shouting at her in the car the other night and she paused in her work to watch her Mum drain the pasta for dinner. "They're going on tour you know, Florence, I'd like to see her… we could get tickets." She bit on her lip, flexing her hands on the table. "...Would you come with me?" It was a small olive branch, but she hoped it enough to quell some of the harsh atmosphere in the room.

"Hmm. We'll see. Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't." The track had changed and she pushed her book aside, popping the lid back on the glue and going to the fridge to take out the Parmesan for dinner. They had their routine now, many evenings together, many dinners at the end of the kitchen table. "Do you ever wonder how things might be, Mum, if Dad hadn't left? If he and Lily still lived here with us?"

She stopped stirring the sauce and turned down the heat before turning to her eldest. "Of course I do. That's the nature of life. I mean, I think about what it would be like if I'd chosen a different university or even a different course - I'd never have met your father then - or if I'd not gone back to work, or if he'd stayed at home with you and Lil. But, as much as we may wonder about the what ifs, there's no real point. Things are what they are."

Mae breathed deeply staring at her Mum's back as she poured the sauce over the pasta, she let her words settle in her mind, though she was glad for Elsie's candor and the fact she treated her like an adult, sometimes she hated the fact she was growing up and things would, quite quickly, change.

"I don't want you to be unhappy, Mum," she admitted finally, slipping into her usual seat as Elsie put their dishes down. "But I'm not sure I can see you with another man, that's all." She shrugged. "I still remember how you and Dad were, when we were little, and then we go out together and it's just… you get on so well."

Elsie sighed, leaning forward against the table. "Perhaps your father and I spending so much time together with you and Lil was a mistake… it's clouded your memory of why we aren't together. You must remember how much we argued." Whilst she and Charles had tried to shield the girls from the pain of their crumbling marriage, she wasn't naive enough to believe that they, Mae especially - being the eldest - hadn't witnessed some of it.

"I remember mum," Mae looked down at her bowl of pasta, grating cheese onto it. This was her Dad's speciality, his special recipe. She didn't really want to talk about the arguments, it had been bad enough the first time around, she didn't want to live them again. "Maybe you wouldn't be the same now, maybe things have changed."

"Eat your dinner, honey." Elsie needed to put an end to this conversation. Mae's words had hit a nerve; she'd zeroed in on the one thing Elsie could never stop wondering about. Would things be different if they tried again?

* * *

 **1994 - late March**

Elsie rolled over onto her stomach, stretching above her head and to the top of the bed, the way Charles had his attic room arranged the head of his bed (which had no headboard) sat along his window sill, which he used as a shelf. Her fingers reached for his small, grey alarm clock and turned it to face her, "Oh god…" she groaned. "That's two trains I've missed now."

"You shouldn't be so damn irresistible then!" Charles said, kissing her bare shoulder. "What time is it?"

She shuffled further up the bed, peering out of his window, it was darkening out now and the streets were quietening as people packed up for the day. "Just after six. If I don't get the 19:00 train I might as well leave it until the morning and go back to halls, I'll get to Glasgow too late."

"Hmm, sorry?" Charles said, he'd been distracted by her naked form; the way the fading light had accentuated her curves, so her words had bypassed him completely.

She felt his fingers slide down the curve of her back, his palm resting on her bottom. Smirking, she glanced over her shoulder at him, "Aren't you tired yet?"

"I'm naked in bed with the sexiest woman on the planet. The day I'm too tired to enjoy that is a day I never hope to see."

"You're incorrigible," she chuckled, shuffling back down the bed and beneath his thick duvet, his waiting arms wrapping around her. "And that's a silly thing to say because you haven't met all the women on the planet so you can't possibly know. Besides," she looked up at him, eyes wide and bright, "I'm still a girl, thank you very much!"

"Oh no, you're all woman. And I don't need to see all the women on the planet; there just can't be anyone who compares to you. It's impossible." He lowered his lips to hers, in an effort to silence any further protests against his compliments.

She giggled against his mouth as he kissed her, rolling onto her back and pressing her hands against his upper chest as he leant over her. "Such a sweet talker, are you sure you haven't got a string of 'women' who you're using these lines on?" She was teasing him, she knew, but it was fun and he played along so well, and - not that she's one to be big-headed - but it was rather nice to think that her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend) was this fine specimen of a man who played cricket, cycled extensively and was on the rowing team too. And she knew he was devoted to her and that was rather wonderful.

His fingers found her waist, and danced over the skin there, tickling her.

She yelped her protest at his touch, squirming beneath him, "You know I'm ticklish there…"

"Where? Here?" His fingers twitched and she jerked away from his touch.

She slapped at his hand, "That's not nice, how would you like it, hmm, if I just accidentally lifted my knee here and caught you in the proverbials…?"

He dutifully removed his hand. "Now, you want to be careful with those. Might need them one day!"

"Ha, for what? Some boys contest comparing size?!" She laughed as he flopped onto his back again and she folded her arms on his pillow, resting her chin on top of them.

"Ha ha. You're a regular Victoria Wood you are. I meant, y'know... kids."

"Ahh, those, fancy some, do you?" She watched as he nodded. "And who you thinking of having them with, because I think Sharon Stone's married?"

"She divorced in 1990 actually."

"Stalker," she smirked.

"She wouldn't look twice at me. Besides, why would I want her when I've got you?"

"Something to do with the urban legend that, true to character, she doesn't wear knickers - I clearly do. Though obviously not for very long whenever I come over here!"

"I've never heard you complaining! Moaning, yes… but that's not quite the same thing."

"Don't stay stuff like that, you'll embarrass me!" She glanced up at the clock again. "I have to go. Make me get out of bed and get dressed - it's alright for you, your parents live in York, you don't have to pack up and travel anywhere!"

He followed her gaze to the clock. "You'll be lucky to make the train now."

"You just want to me to stay another day."

"I want you to stay forever."

"Charles," she said, her voice half laughing. "Don't be silly. We can't live together, I have to stay in halls for my first year."

"Of which there are only three months left," he pointed out. "Have you started looking for a house for next year yet?"

She pursed her lips together, "Not yet, no, well not really. Leanne suggested some things, I guess if I move in with her and Bezza that'll be okay."

"You don't sound too sure."

She shuffled on his pillow, despite being a boy and his room constantly being messy, he had better bedding that she did - she guessed it was because his mother purchased it, and Mrs Carson had high standards and good taste. "Do you ever tell Finn that he plays his music too loud and it's shit and we don't all want to hear it?" she asked, as the music from the floor below travelled up the stairs.

"Not after he ignored me for the twentieth time. Not worth the hassle. It won't matter for much longer anyway. He's moving out."

"At least you're on your own up here, nobody else comes up those back stairs because there's nowhere to go, and you don't have a corridor for anyone to pass down. And it's a big room, double the size of the bedrooms downstairs...:"

"Hot in the summer though."

"Mmm. You staying here next year?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Depends I guess…"

"On what? It's a great house, you have a massive bathroom and two kitchens and you can bike to the University it's so close, money saver you see."

"It rather depends on you... I was going to ask if you wanted to look for somewhere… together. But if you've arranged things with Leanne and Beryl, that's fine. I can stay here." He shifted, moving his arms so they were behind his head.

She bit down on her lip, suddenly feeling very much like a child in a grown-up world that she wasn't sure how to handle. "You want to live with me?"

"Of course I do."

"But… I'm not sure we can afford some place just for the two of us. You know how things are with me, I'm working at The Grand but it's not great money, even if I work all summer."

"It doesn't have to be just us. We could share with others as well. I just thought it would be nice… living with the woman I love." The words were out before he realised what he was saying.

She could hardly breathe and for a moment she watched him in silence, wondering if he was joking and he'd suddenly laugh and tickle her again. They'd only been together since Christmas, it was only March - how could… but then, if she thought about it, did she feel the same? She wasn't sure, she'd never been in love before.

"You're… you're sure…?"

"It wasn't exactly how I planned to tell you, that kinda just slipped out. But yes." He moved onto his side, so he could look at her properly and began to stroke her back. "I love you."

He seemed so sincere, of course they were incredibly close and they got on so well, they had so much fun together, they could talk for hours and hours about anything, and it hadn't taken them very long at all to work out how well they worked together in the bedroom. But love? That seemed so serious and grown up.

"You don't have to say it back… If you don't feel the same… if you're not sure."

"No, I just… How do you know? How can you be sure?"

"I… I just do. You're the first person I think of in a morning and the last one at night."

She smiled slightly, "Well, that's the same for me too."

"I miss you when you're not here… and it's not the same as missing a parent or a best friend… it's more. I ache to see you." He paused, wondering whether his next words would be too much for her, but then she had asked how he knew. "And when I think about my future, I can't imagine any scenario where you're not in it."

She shifted her body, her knee banging against his leg beneath the sheets, she suddenly felt very warm, her pulse throbbing in her ears.

He sensed her discomfort and cursed himself for opening his big mouth. "I don't mean to scare you, Els. I just want to be honest with you."

"I'm not scared, just surprised, is all. We haven't been together long and I never thought… what I mean is, when I came down here from Glasgow I felt so very grown up and brave, the first person to leave our farm and not just a 'person' but a girl. The first person in our family to go to University… my thoughts were all about being an academic genius and getting a first and starting up my own business. I didn't imagine I'd meet somebody, that it'd happen so quickly… falling in love…"

"Falling in love doesn't have to mean you can't still get a first or start your own business."

"I know, it just wasn't part of 'my plan', you know? And then I meet you in the dullest class on my timetable!"

"I hope that's not a reflection on having me as your study partner!" he joked, wanting to lighten the mood.

She chuckled, "As if. If it weren't for you I'd never get through the damned class." She looked above her head again, "It's ten to seven, Charles."

"You've missed the train then?"

"Mmm, my mum'll kill me." She purposely pushed her knee between his legs, the heel of her foot digging against his shin.

"Blame me," he offered selflessly.

"No way, she already thinks me foolish for getting involved with some 'English boy'. Especially with a name like 'Charles' - she thinks you a snob."

"Oh she does, does she? I see."

"Mmm, I haven't told her we're sleeping together. Well, not sleeping exactly… that's a silly phrase, don't you think? Because we don't sleep - I always go home and sleep."

"You don't have to go home tonight. Robert has already left for the holidays and Finn is getting the 21.10 train. We'll have the house to ourselves."

"I guess," she pulled her leg out from between his and flopped onto her back again, aware of how her breasts bobbed at the movement, at how the quilt shifted giving him quite the view. She smiled, "You said you loved me…"

"I did." Part of him wanted to say 'and you didn't say it back' but he doesn't. He holds onto the fact that she said that she hadn't expected to fall in love. It hadn't been the declaration he'd been hoping for but it was something.

She yawned, stretching her arms out above her in the bed, "I'm so tired. You know I wasn't even meant to come here this afternoon, we said goodbye yesterday, I was just going to pack, finish my essay and get on the train. I've done none of those things."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you one more time. Two whole weeks without you is going to be torture."

"Is it… is that why I'd only been here five minutes and you were already talking me into bed?"

"You were wearing that jumper… " he gestured to where the offending garment lay discarded on his floor. "You know I can't resist you in that. If I didn't know you better Elsie Hughes, I'd say you wore it on purpose!"

"I have no idea what you mean," she pouted innocently. "You're the one who claims it makes my nipples stick out, nobody else has ever commented…"

"I should bloody well hope not!"

"Would you be jealous?"

"Insanely."

"Good!" She smirked. "If it makes you feel any better I'm jealous every time I attend one of your sporty things and girls are ogling you. Why are sports clothes so tight? All that lycra."

His chest puffed with pride. "Do other girls look? I've never noticed."

"Liar," she said teasingly. She pulled the quilt up to her neck, "It's getting cold in here."

"I know a way we can keep warm." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"You do realise that you only had a three pack of condoms and we've used two already, don't you?"

"Which leaves one left… I can do maths… I'm doing accountancy, remember?"

"Ha, ha. And you want me to stay over, right, you're not going to be prodding me in the back with something in the middle of the night…?"

"Well, I can't promise that, but I'll try and restrain myself."

She giggled, moving quickly to lie on top of him, laughing as he gripped her arms and she nudged his nose with her chin. "I don't want you to restrain yourself," she suddenly said seriously, "I love you too."

"Mmm… Marry me?" he asked, not really thinking about what he was saying, too caught up in the emotion of hearing the woman he loved, say she loved him back.

She gasped, suddenly things weren't funny anymore. "What?"

"That is… er… what I mean is…" He fumbled, trying to find an explanation for his out of the blue proposal but he couldn't. He couldn't explain what had made him say it.

"It's okay Charles, you don't need to try and explain." She let her hand rest on his chest. "It was kinda sweet, but you know it's too soon - right? And we're far too young… yeah?"

"Yeah, you're right.

He looked a little sad, crestfallen - what she hadn't expected was feeling down herself. "But… if you still want to live with me, perhaps we could start looking at places when I get back from Scotland?"

"Are you serious?" he asked, eyes wide. "You'll live with me?"

"If you want to, I do, it'd be nice wouldn't it… we get on, most of the time," she smiled.

"Except when I'm being 'crabby'," he reminded her.

"Yeah well, you'll just have to take yourself off and do something sporty when you feel like that, because I don't want any man moods!" She grinned. "And I promise that every time it's my 'time of the month' I'll be sure to make your life hellish, okay?"

He blanched. "I'm maybe starting to rethink this idea…" Two could play at this teasing game, although she was infinitely better at it than him.

"Oh, really." She stretched above his head again, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hair sweeping across his face. "And if I were to get this little thing here and suggest we celebrate our house sharing plans….?" she said, eyes twinkling as she waved the little silver package in front of his face.

He flipped them over so she was underneath him, his strong arms - a benefit of his rowing - being no match for her. "Then I would say, to quote Marvin Gaye, 'let's get it on'."

She slid her palms over his forearms, giggling at his words, "This is no time to be flippant and silly, Mr Carson, not when we've moved from just having sex… to making love…" When she looked up at him this time her eyes were bright, clear, intense blue that drew him in.

"And I do love you, Elsie Hughes."

"Well then," she pressed her mouth up to his, kissing him deeply as she curled her legs around his waist. "I love you too," she said against his mouth, eyes half closed, heavy with desire. "Let's make the most of the last condom, shall we...?"

* * *

 **October 1994**

"What do you fancy doing for your birthday?" Charles asked as he flicked through the television channels.

It had been Elsie's idea to get a TV, just as it had been her idea to rearrange the room - in the end they'd found nothing suitable and for a decent price so Charles had remained in the same house and Elsie had moved into the attic room with him.

She'd moved his desk onto one side of the bed and hers on the other, that way they both had a kind of bedside table and if they were working at the same time there was something between them to stop distractions - for some reason they found it quite hard to resist touching the other for more than ten minutes at a time. Her small wardrobe had just fit in next to his and they'd bought a chest of drawers from a second hand shop, upon which now sat the television.

Elsie glanced over at him as she hung her uniform up, "Not really thought. Something cheap."

"My treat. What's that?" he asked, as she bent to pull something out from beneath the bed.

"It's getting cold." She yanked out the bag and emptied out the contents. "I saw this ages ago, in the sale, cute huh?"

"A blanket?"

"Kind of, better, warmer." She spread it over the bed, "And see, it matches our bed sheets."

"So it does, quite the set. Didn't my Mother buy these sheets?"

"Yes, and they were expensive, as was this, but like I say I got it in the summer sale. Figured it would keep."

"Aren't you the little homemaker?"

She pulled a face at him, bending at the bottom of the bed to tuck in the edges of the comforter.

"Don't bother with all that Els, just come and get in bed. I don't bother making the bed right…"

"I've noticed."

"No point, is there, it's only gonna get messy again. Hopefully." He smiled. "Come bring your sexy ass here."

"Wait a second, I'm just…" she brushed her hair out of her face, "...just finishing this. I work in a hotel, remember, I know how to make a bed well - sharp corners, see."

"I don't know why you bother with that job."

She got to her feet, pleased with the results, "Because of that little thing called money."

"But now we're living together, do you really need it?"

She frowned at him, slipping off her dressing gown and quickly jumping into bed - it was freezing in the room and they'd agreed as a house not to put the heating on until December, January if they could make do. "Of course I need it, my family can't support me Charles, as you well know." He'd visited her parents' farm in the summer; he'd seen how life was for them; she was sure it had been quite the eye-opener for him.

"What I mean is, I was paying for this room last year anyway, I can manage it. You don't have to work Els, not if you don't want to. You'd have more time to study… to spend with me."

"Don't be a twat Charles." She shuffled down in the bed. "I'm not some kept woman."

He shrugged. "I just don't see why you should have to slog your guts out when there's no need."

"But there is a need! I need my own money. Just because your Mummy and Daddy top your account up once a month…"

Charles was affronted at the suggestion that he was a sponger. "I don't ask them to."

"No, but you don't turn it down neither. I can't imagine you getting a part time job, not even to see you through Christmas."

"Well… no… not if I don't have to." She was right. The idea of working to put himself through university had never even occurred to him. Not until he'd met her. The friends he'd grown up with came from similar backgrounds to him; their parents would see to it that they survived.

"Exactly," she trilled. "But don't go butting in on my choices. I want to work. Has it ever occurred to you that I actually enjoy working?"

"What, stripping beds and cleaning toilets? I don't see how anyone could enjoy that."

She stared at him for a moment, quite shocked, before gruffly turning over, her back to him. "You're a fucking arsehole at times, do you know that?!"

"That's uncalled for!" he protested. "All I did was offer to help-"

"Don't talk to me!" she interrupted.

"Don't call me an arsehole!"

"Don't behave like one!"

"I didn't!" he huffed, flopping back onto his back, muttering… "was only trying to help."

"Now you sound like a petulant kid, not getting his own way." She fiddled beneath the bedsheets, her feet were getting warm now and her socks itching so she yanked them off and threw them onto the beanbag in the corner of the room.

"Oh, so I'm a _childish_ areshole now? Charming!"

"No, you know what is charming, Charles? Is that you made me sound cheap and ridiculous for doing this job," she spat the words over her shoulder at him, tired and beyond frustrated now. "If it bothers you so much, my being working class, you should be screwing one of those snobby plastic bitches your mother parades around at parties. Anyone of them is ripe for the taking, surely, they don't have brains!"

Charles sighed. "Don't try and make this into some sort of 'class-war' Elsie. You know that doesn't bother me. I mucked in and helped on the farm in the summer, didn't I?" He chose not to challenge her comments about the girls because, to some extent, he agreed with her; most of them were ditzy and fake. He didn't want them, he wanted her, even if she was the most infuriating woman he'd ever met.

"Ohhhh, well, let's all give Sir Carson a round of applause for 'mucking in' - so clearly beneath him."

"Don't be like that!"

"How do you want me to be?"

"I don't want to fight with you." He'd never been a fan of confrontation and he and Elsie had done so well… nine months without a proper argument. And now that they'd had their first, he hated confrontation even more; he certainly didn't like not being in agreement with her.

"Well then you shouldn't say such stupid things!" She was still seething at his words, stung by the implication of them, and she'd never been one to back down from an argument. What made it worse was for the first time she was beginning to see how different their backgrounds were, and what that might mean in terms of any future together.

"I didn't mean it how it sounded… I just wanted to help. We're in a relationship, it's what people do."

"Yeah, which means we should respect each other, I feel now like you're looking down your nose at me because I work." She turned over, dropping her arms on top of the bed sheets. "You've made me feel self conscious."

"It wasn't my intention."

She twisted her head to look at him, the television was muted but the light from it flashed over his features. "Do you see me as lower class?"

"No. I see a situation in which I thought I could help."

She huffed, lord he was irritating, and she got the distinct impression he wasn't really listening to her. "I'm not going to live off your parents' money, Charles. I spend what I earn. And I want to work, I like to work, it's why I worked my arse off at school so I could come to a decent university and get a decent job. I've not given up on the hope of having my own business, someday."

"You make it sound as if I'm against working women. Need I remind you that my own mother has a very successful career?"

"God, no you don't need to remind me of that! She reminds me every time we go over for dinner!" She pouted, then relented. "I don't mind that, not really, she's done well and you know… yeah… I guess she is an inspiration."

"So you see, I'm not a complete idiot, I just don't want you to stress yourself out trying to balance studying and working. Promise me something? You'll tell me if it gets too much, near finals and stuff. Don't be your usual stubborn self and try to cope on your own. If it comes to it I need know that you'll ask me for help."

She sighed heavily, "Oh for goodness sake, this conversation has stressed me out way more than any exam I've ever taken!" She turned quickly, facing him, her mouth beginning to twist into a smile, "You don't need to take care of me, Charles, I don't need that, and we're not married."

"Only cos you keep saying no," he pouted, twisting onto his side to face her.

"And I will continue to say no because I'm not even twenty bloody years old yet - and clearly we have a way to go before we know how to function properly as a couple. Listening to each other, that might be a start… You don't have to marry the first girl you love, you know."

"No, you don't. But I want to marry _you_. I will marry you one day, you'll see." As he spoke, he leaned in, getting closer with every statement. To punctuate his point, and in way of an apology, he kissed her on the nose.

"And you won't be put off…" she said, sliding her hands over his shoulders. "...when I'm a world destroying, kick-ass business woman organising events for the rich and famous?"

"I shall be proud of you. And I shall be at every event to support you… well, that and to make good use of the free bars."

She bit down on her lip, "I'm sorry I called you a fucking arsehole…"

"I'm sorry I implied that your job was beneath you."

She tiptoed her fingertips up and down the back of his neck, "I guess that was our first real argument."

"Yeah, but we survived it."

"We didn't throw anything at each other."

"All in all, a successful evening," he joked. "Now, I believe there a tradition when it comes to arguing-"

"And we know what a stickler you are for traditions."

"Quite. Anyway, I believe it's now time to engage in the traditional 'make up sex'."

"Ohhh you make it sound SO romantic." She dropped onto her back, "Come on then, let's get it over with…"

"Oh, you want romance. Why didn't you say so?" He leant over her and pulled her into a passionate kiss, a kiss to show her how good they were together.

There was a point, in the early hours of the next morning, after they'd come together for the third time, that Charles thought, albeit fleetingly, that arguments did have their positives.

* * *

 **2015 - Monday night**

Mae climbed into bed and switched off her bedside lamp, her mum had sent her to bed over an hour ago but she'd got caught up reading her English Literature text and now it was way past bedtime and no doubt if Elsie came up she'd give her a rollicking - especially as the pair of them were still a little ropey after their earlier chat.

She still needed to talk to Lily though so she pulled the quilt over her head and flipped back the cover on her iPad.

Mae: HEY LIL U STILL UP?

Lily: JUST… KEEP WORRYING ABOUT SATURDAY - YOUR TEXT EARLIER FREAKED ME OUT!

Mae: TELL ME ABOUT IT, CAN'T BELIEVE SHE WANTS TO BRING SOME STUPID GUY - THAT COULD MESS STUFF UP

Lily: DAD WILL BE ❤ BROKEN

Mae: I KNOW :-( :-( I FOUND THIS ARTICLE IN THE PAPER TONIGHT - REASONS WHY YOU SHOULD GET BACK WITH YOUR EX, SO I LEFT IT OPEN ON THE KITCHEN TABLE, SHE ALWAYS READS THE PAPER IN THE EVENING SO I HOPE SHE'S SEEN IT

Lily: YOU THINK SHE'S KISSED THIS GUY?

Mae: SHIT, I HOPE NOT! I'LL TRY TO TALK HER OUT OF IT AGAIN BUT SHE GOT REAL PISSED OFF WITH ME… LET'S HOPE DAD'S PRESENT DOES THE TRICK.

Lily: HE'S BEEN IN HIS OFFICE ALL NIGHT MAKING SOMETHING, WON'T TELL ME WHAT BUT HE KEEPS ARGUING WITH THE PRINTER

Mae: HA! GOOD OL' DAD! I'M COMING WEDS FOR TEA SO WE'LL TALK BETTER THEN - I'VE GOT AN IDEA FOR A SONG AND WE HAVE TO GET THEM TO DANCE TO IT TOGETHER

Lily: OK, MAYBE SEE YOU ROUND SCHOOL TOMORROW

Mae: YEAH DON'T STALK ME! LOL

Lily: YOU WISH!

Mae: THAT KID STILL BEING AN ASS AND KNICKING YOUR PENS?

Lily: NO HE STOPPED, THANKS :-D

Mae: WELCOME. NIIIIIGHHHHTTTTT! XXX

Lily: NIGHT WACKO! X


	8. Chapter 8

_**Flashbacks - the good, the bad, and the present day party prep...**_

* * *

 **Chapter 8 - Some things you let go in order to live**

 **January 2003**

Listening to his wife in the bathroom Charles grimaced as, for the fourth time that morning, she emptied her stomach of its contents - which can't have been much more than a cup of tea and a peppermint cream.

She was exhausted, and as a result, he found himself walking a fine line with her - her current temperament was such that he never knew how she was going to respond to something. Still, he made her another mint tea and waited for her to return from the bathroom.

When she came into their small kitchen she sank down into a chair, running a hand over her hair.

"Any better?" He asked, pushing the tea towards her.

"Like hell." She wrapped her hands around the warm mug. "It's ridiculous, nothing with Mae - I didn't even know I was pregnant until five months. And with this one…" she glanced down at her stomach, "it's like it wants to give me a constant reminder."

She sipped her tea, glancing at the pamphlets he'd laid on the table.

"Charles! That's a 450 thousand pound house."

"I know, but just...listen…"

"That's almost half a million."

"And it needs work so it'll be worth way more than that in the end."

"We can't afford that." She was already pushing the pamphlet away.

"We can." He touched the back of her hand. "We can. And we can't stay here, this was meant to be a house for just the two of us, a starter home, and now we have Mae and…" he patted her hand. "...this baby coming. We need the space Els."

She took another drink of her tea, reflecting on what he'd said.

"This isn't what we wanted anyhow, it's too modern - we agreed we both wanted somewhere old, Victorian, that kind of period." He pulled the brochure back towards her. "This house is gorgeous. It has this huge hallway, perfect for kids and their stuff, and four bedrooms so we could have a spare for guests or a playroom. There's an office downstairs so I can work at home, a massive conservatory…"

"You?"

"Sorry?"

"So _you_ can work at home."

"Well, yes, in the evenings, when I need to - not all the time."

She closed her eyes, screwed her face up.

"What's that look for?"

"You're really not listening to me, are you?" She put her mug down on top of the brochure. "I've been telling you for two months now that I'm not sure about this," she gestured to her stomach. "I don't know how many more ways I can say it, how much clearer I can make it."

"I know you're nervous, I get that, and the sickness hasn't helped. I know." He tapped the table. "But this is a great house…"

"For fuck's sake Charles! I feel like I'm having a mental bloody breakdown and you go on about some damned house!"

He was taken aback by her outburst, and the fact Mae was having a nap upstairs and he really wanted to have at least another hour of peace with Elsie to discuss this property.

"Don't lose your temper."

"My temper? God!" She covered her face momentarily, shaking her head. "Will you listen to me - I don't want this!"

His mouth dropped open, he'd thought - hoped - she'd just get over these concerns. That she was just in shock.

"I don't think I want this, Charles. And that terrifies me. Because I've got to make the hardest decision of my life and you aren't even taken me seriously. You aren't even listening. You're going on about buying a new fucking house!"

HIs brow furrowed. "What decision?"

" _Really_ …? You're really asking me that now, after all these weeks? I keep telling you I'm nervous, I'm unsure… I was planning to go back to work full time, I have companies lined up. Opportunities. I've been doing two days a week for only, what, three months? And now what? I'm going to tell them I've got to go off again because of this?"

" _This_? That's our child you're talking about!"

"It's not a child yet, Charles, it's barely even a baby. I looked it up on the internet in the library the other week."

"Are you… are you saying you want to… get rid of our baby?"

She sucked in a tight breath, "You see, this is why I'm so terrified of discussing it with you, because of that tone, that face. Judging me." She pushed her chair back and got to her feet, tipping the remainder of her tea down the sink. "You think I don't already feel like the worst woman in the world because of this? That I'm not even fit to be a mother - because of this? I don't know how I'm meant to feel, how I'm meant to deal with it. I wanted my husband to help me!"

"That's rubbish - you're a wonderful mother."

"That's not helping." She sagged back against the counter, a mixture of exhaustion and nausea swirling through her body. "I don't know what to do. I'm 28 years old and what have I done with my life? Went to University with a head full of dreams, got married, had a baby… end of story… And what's happened to what I wanted, hmm, all those things I had planned when I first met you?"

"Well, I'm sorry your life with me has been such a chore!" he snapped. "That seemingly it's been a waste."

"Don't say it like that - could you make me feel any more guilty? I feel like I'm alone in this! I didn't say it had been a chore… I love you, I love Mae, but it's not… it's not what I thought my life would be, not at this point. Two children before I'm even thirty?"

"It sounds like you're already pretty clear about what you want to do." His voice was flat, he could barely believe they were having this conversation. He'd known she was unsure about having another baby - it had been a shock for both of them to find she was pregnant again - and he'd been giving her space to get her head around it, trying not to push her about it, but he never thought she'd seriously consider having an abortion.

"Oh please, _please_ Charles, don't do that! I need you to talk to me, really talk to me. Because I can't do this on my own. Do you understand that? I just can't…" she closed her eyes, feeling tears threaten.

"Okay, he sighed. "What exactly do you want to talk about?"

She stared at him, her vision blurred, entire body shaking. "I'm disappearing…"

"I don't… I don't understand what you're saying."

"I'm disappearing, here, in this house. Living it day in, day out. The same walls. The same view. The same routine. I shower, I clean, I feed Mae, I read to Mae, I walk with Mae, I have all my bloody conversations with a three year old. Then I make dinner for you, you fill me in on your day, you take a bath, we watch some crap on TV and if I'm lucky you might have sex with me before rolling over to go to sleep. And then - and then I get up, and I do the exact same thing again. Do you remember who I was…? Who I used to be? Because I can't…" Tears were openly pouring down her face now, but she somehow managed to keep her voice level and steady as she said what she needed to.

"I remember a beautiful woman who was, and still is, clever, passionate, loving… we had fun, I think we still have fun… But listening to you now, I can see that perhaps I've not been helping matters."

"I can't bear that. I can't bear for you to hate me, to be disappointed in me, but I need you to know this." She wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "I've got to get it out of my head or I think I'll lose my mind"

"I don't hate you. Listen to me Els," he walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulders, bending slightly so he could look her in the eyes. "I could never, ever hate you."

"I'm so lonely, Charles…"

"But I'm here Els. You're everything to me and it breaks my heart to think that you're lonely because I'm always here for you."

She suddenly breaks the facade of pretending not to cry and throws her arms around him, burying her face against his chest as she sobs.

Instinctively his arms wrap tightly around her and he holds her close as she lets it all out.

"I'm so afraid I'll make the wrong choice… But I can't do it again, I can't take another three years or more of this…" She mumbled against him.

He nodded, a plan beginning to formulate in his head. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. Firstly, you're going to ring Beryl and arrange to see her; you're going to have a night off and I'm going to be home early to look after Mae. You could even make it a regular thing… get together once a week."

"That's not going to solve everything, Charles."

"No, I know. I hadn't finished. You need to talk to someone other than me and I think Beryl, as mad as she is, would be the best choice."

She pulled back from him slightly, shifting her palm over her slightly rounded belly, "And what do we do…?"

"If you really think that going back to work will help…"

"I do, I can't imagine having another child and not being able to get out of that role. As wonderful as being a wife and mother is, I need more…"

"Okay. Then what about if I cut down to 3 days a week? I could stay at home with the kids, while you worked."

"Three? Can we afford that?"

"I don't think we can afford for me not to. I'll sit down and look at it at tonight. I could always work from home if it comes to it."

"What will your father think, he wanted to retire altogether soon? You're primed to take over."

"He'll just have to get used to it. It'll only be for a couple of years, three at most because the new baby will go to nursery."

She snuffled, her hands still clutching his arms. "It sounds so complicated, I'm making everything difficult… I don't want you to resent me."

"And wouldn't you resent me, if I didn't make these changes?"

She could only nod at that; truth be told it had already set in - she envied him going out to work, the excitement he got over signing new clients or closing a big deal. The nights he was out at business dinners; no wives allowed - what the hell did that mean? And here she was feeling dowdy and boring with nothing of interest to talk to him about and certainly not in any way feeling sexually attractive or adventurous. Who knew who he was spending his time with outside of the home.

She had too much time of late to dwell on these things. Too much time for her mind to wander.

"And I don't want that anymore than you want me resenting you. So we work it out; meet in the middle; compromise."

His words brought a slight smile, "The art of marriage - compromise?"

"So I'm led to believe."

She looked up at him, her eyes sore from crying, and nervously asked, "Still love me?"

"Always."

"As much as you did when we lived in the attic room and things were simple and always fun?"

"More now than ever."

"Why… when I'm saying all this horrible stuff to you?"

"Because of how far we've come, what we've experienced together, what we've done together. We made a beautiful child Elsie," he rested his hand on her stomach, "two of them. You're the mother to my children. My wife. Nothing could be more important to me. We're partners, aren't we? Best friends?"

She nodded, pressing against him again. "I've missed talking to my best friend."

"Well, for that I'm sorry." he kissed her head repeatedly. "And I won't ever let that happen again, because my love for you just keeps deepening. Which I never imagined could happen."

"I feel the same." she nudged his chin with her forehead, "I thought once you were in love that was it, but it's always changing, growing."

"You still love me, then? Even though I've been a bit of an oaf about this?"

"Yes. Very much." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, pressing her hands on his face as she poured her relief and gratitude into the kiss.

"How much longer you think Mae will sleep?" he asked.

She smiled against his mouth, "Fancy giving me a back massage?"

"Something like that… And later, can we take Mae and drive out and at least look at this house, just _look_?"

She nodded, hugging him, he really did want the best for them, all of them.

They bought the house and it pushed their finances to breaking point. Though Charles would never tell Elsie that.

* * *

 **2015 - November**

Mid-week and Elsie was but three days from turning forty. It seemed a milestone birthday, the last milestone birthday had been her 21st and that had been quite different. Charles had made sure she felt suitably spoilt and unquestionably loved… now wasn't the time to dwell on that, on him, or them.

She'd reached a decision in regards to all that. It seemed ridiculous to her now, when she stopped and really thought about it, that they were still in this position. So, the only logical step was to move it forward, which meant making their separation legal. It was about time, anyhow, this charade had dragged on for far too long.

It didn't seem right to discuss it over the phone so she'd decided to wait until they were face to face, which meant Wednesday afternoon when she was dropping Mae off on her way home from the open day at the local college. She didn't want Mae to go to college, she wanted her to stay in the very good school she was already at, but she also wanted her daughter to feel like she was being given options, so she'd played along, booked her afternoon free and gone with her to take a look around. Charles had wanted to come but couldn't get free and she didn't really mind, as long as he made it to the Post-16 open evening at the school that was fine.

His house was warm and there was a wonderful smell of roasting beef coming from the kitchen; clearly he was making quite the effort and cooking a proper dinner for the children. Lily had let them in and the pair had disappeared into the lounge, Mae eager to empty out her bag of freebies and share the experience of what college was like. Elsie had awkwardly made her way towards the kitchen - they hadn't really spoken since that night at her place, the near kiss and the ensuing argument - and she wasn't at all looking forward to this.

In the lounge the girls had turned on music and were dancing about, she watched their movements for a moment from where she stood in the hall between lounge and kitchen. Then she'd turned, pulled the door shut on them and stepped completely into the kitchen, her car keys dangling from her finger.

She watched his shoulders move as he bent to open the oven door and take out the spitting joint. He wasn't even aware she was there and for a moment she enjoyed that, just watching him, the way she could make out the muscles of his back beneath his shirt as he stretched - the definition of his arms… He hadn't rowed for years, not since at least 1996, but somehow he was still in good shape. It made her stomach quiver, thinking of how he used to easily pick her up - sometimes casually throwing her over his shoulder and leaving her giggling, other times carrying her like some precious treasure as he took her to bed.

"Elsie, hi." he suddenly said, catching a glimpse of her as he turned to open the fridge.

"Hii," she said, self conscious. "Smells good." She indicated the beef.

"Needs another half hour yet for the middle I think, just gonna put some of this on top." He took a jar of Coleman's from the fridge and spread it thickly over the meat. "Should crisp up nice."

"Mmm," she moved towards the breakfast bar, absently shifting the pile of letters on there beneath her hand.

"Here," Charles said, turning to her and handing over a chunk of meat. "The corner bit, you always liked that."

Smiling she took it from him and bit the crispy edge of, delighting in both the texture and taste of the meat.

"You want some tea, or you rushing off? Got time to tell me about college?"

"Sure," she chewed, swallowed, licked the tip of her fingers. "I'm sure Mae will fill you in too."

He returned the meat to the oven before filling the kettle. "She like it there?"

"I guess so, but I suppose she realises school would be better, from what she said. So if you could reinforce that idea later I'd be grateful."

"No worries." He took the lid from the teapot and swirled warm water inside. "You gonna sit down, take your coat off?"

Elsie had forgotten she was still wearing it, "There's something else I want to discuss with you, actually, whilst we have a moment."

"Oh…?"

She closed her eyes momentarily, turned her nails inward into the palm of each hand as she prepared to speak. "I think we should get divorced." She said firmly, resolute in her decision.

Charles almost dropped the teapot he was holding. He had his back to her and was glad of that fact as his eyes closed involuntarily against her words.

"Why now?" He finally said, distracting himself by spooning in loose tea. "I mean, what's made you decide now?"

She let her bag slide down her arm and perched back on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, he'd taken it more calmly than she expected. "I suppose we've let it drag on for far too long, haven't we? And you dating…"

"I've told you, I'm not seeing her anymore."

"No. But you were. And you might see somebody else, as might I."

He felt that idea twist in his guts.

"And besides, the girls are used to it, we have no reason not to. Not really Charles…" She stared at him. "Do we?"

He licked his lips, maybe this was what a heart attack felt like - a tightening of the chest, a struggle to find breath, a struggle to even think clearly.

"I can't believe you're doing this now." His tone was perhaps harsher than he'd meant it to be.

"Sorry?"

"That you'd do this here, now, with the girls in the other room."

"When would you have liked me to have done it, Charles?"

"I don't know, how about five years ago? Instead of keeping me dangling."

"What the…"

"But then that suited you, didn't it, to keep me hanging about, just in case." He threw the teaspoon he'd been holding across the room and it clattered into the sink.

"That's hardly fair."

"Isn't it?" He shook his head at her, turning away and muttering, "selfish…"

That was it, right there, her biggest fear.

"Yes, you're right." She dropped her feet to the floor, got up, a little wobbly, and picked her bag up from the floor. "But then I always have been, haven't I? You should be glad to be rid of me."

He turned back to face her, there were times she drove him to the edge of sanity - either through love or aggravation - and right now he wasn't sure if he wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her insecurities away or shake her for being so damned stupid.

"I've found a solicitor."

"What?"

"I thought it best."

"For who?"

She paused by the door, chewing the inside of her cheek. "For all of us Charles, it's time we moved on." She avoided his intense gaze, looked over his head to the wall. "Thanks for the offer of tea but I best go. Have a good evening with them. And if you could try and talk to Mae about her options..."

"Yeah. Sure. No worries." He said monotone.

For a long time after she'd gone Charles remained in the exact same spot, hands gripping the kitchen surface for fear he wouldn't be able to hold himself up without it. The turnings of his mind, the pain in his heart, seemed in odd contrast to the lively pop music coming from the other room.

When finally able, he hurried upstairs to his bedroom. It wasn't often he lost it completely but for several moments he slumped back against the door and let his tears fall.

On the street around the corner from Charles' house Elsie had haphazardly parked her car, unable to see the road ahead of her through her tears. Giving up with trying to wipe them away she leant her forehead against the steering wheel and let the sobs wrack her body. The feelings were too powerful to ignore and so regardless of where she was and who might see she let it all out. She felt as if she were leaving her family behind, driving away from her life, and she saw no way clear to stop it happening.

* * *

 **2015 - November 28th - Saturday**

The light outside was fading quickly but Charles didn't notice, he was too engrossed in his thoughts. It was the day of Elsie's party and her gifts sat on the coffee table in front of him, almost taunting him. They were neatly wrapped in shiny silver paper and topped with large purple bows, thanks to Lily - he couldn't wrap to save his life. Whenever he'd wrapped anything - christmas, birthdays - Elsie had always commented that it looked like a five-year-old had done it. He'd wanted it to better this time, it being a special birthday.

Of course, that was before it had all gone to hell - before she'd dropped the bombshell that she wanted a divorce.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. It had been five years. But that was just it. In the five years since they'd begun their separation it had never come up. Ever. So it had hit him like a bolt of lightening when she'd said the word, stood in his kitchen, their daughter's laughing and dancing in the next room.

Part of him wondered where it had come from; was it his dating Alice that had pushed her? Was it his petty actions on bonfire night? She'd hadn't had the courtesy to offer him a decent explanation - just some guff about how 'it was time' - so how was he supposed to process it all?

Feeling the heel of his shoes dig into him he sat back on the sofa, removing his bow-tie and unbuttoning the collar of his shirt - he wouldn't go tonight, it was silly anyway, what was he to her really? An old acquaintance? Did people expect their ex-husbands to attend their birthday parties? No it would be better if he stayed away. He'd only dampen everyone's spirits with his bad mood.

He rose from the sofa to pour himself a glass of whisky, of course it would be Auchentoshan - it had been one of her favourites. In fact she'd introduced him to it, they'd visited the distillery on one of their trips to Glasgow, and she would still buy him a bottle every Christmas. Taking a swig, he heard his phone buzz against the wood of the coffee table.

Picking it up he saw it was a text from Mae.

Mae: YOU'D BETTER STILL BE COMING TONIGHT…!

Sighing, he typed out his reply.

Charles: NOT SURE IT'S A GOOD IDEA LOVE. MIGHT BE BEST I STAY AWAY.

He pressed send and waited, knowing a response would be almost instantaneous. One that would attempt to convince him to change his mind. As predicted, a few seconds later, his phone buzzed again.

Mae: NOOOOO! YOU HAVE TO COME. PLEASE! DON'T MAKE ME TELL GRANDMA CARSON.

He'd momentarily forgotten how heavily involved his mother had been in the planning of this shindig and let out another heavy sigh. If he didn't go, not only would Mae and Lily be mad at him, he'd have his mother on his back as well. Something that, even now, aged 41, he dreaded.

He downed the rest of his whisky, the glass clinking as he placed it on the coffee table, and re-buttoned his shirt. He'd have to go. But, he decided, refastening his bow-tie in the mirror, he'd stay for an hour at most; give her her gifts then sit at the bar and keep out of everyone's way.

* * *

Staring at herself in the mirror Elsie twisted her mouth to one side as she weighed it up - on the one hand wearing this dress would make both her daughters and her mother-in-law (ex-mother-in-law-to-be…) happy. On the other hand, she felt foolish.

It was far too glamorous for her, far too expensive she bet too.

She pulled her hair back from her face, maybe she should pin it up? Or did that make her look older, highlight her wrinkles? How did she end up in these positions…?

"Wow, mum, you look great!" Mae said coming into the bedroom, Lily prancing in behind her and twirling in her dress.

"Yeah mum, you're all shiny."

"Thank you darling… I think…" she turned to where Mae was sat at her dressing table going through her jewellery box. "What are you looking for?"

"Earrings."

"You're already wearing some."

"For you, not me." She took out a pair of dangly diamond ones. "Perfect."

"I can't wear those… honestly, Mae, I look like I'm trying too hard."

"You do not." She got up from the stool. "Here, just try them. And that fancy necklace you've got too, Dad got it donkeys years ago and you never wear it."

"That's because it's heavy and expensive…" She hooked in the earrings.

"Where is it?"

"In the safe."

Mae practically ran from the room.

"Mae…" Elsie called after her.

"I know how to do it, Dad showed me."

Lily twirled by her mother again, standing in front of her and blocking the mirror. "What do you think of my dress, Mum?"

"Well, I think you look just about as gorgeous as it's possible to be." She rested her hands on Lily's shoulders, bending to kiss her cheek.

"See, we both look pretty." Lily pointed out and Elsie took a moment to look at the pair of them together in the mirror. Lily, although only twelve, was about as tall as Elsie now, like her father she was sporty and she had his eyes, but her features were resembling Elsie more and more, and she'd certainly inherited her fair hair and skin. Sometimes, when she looked at her she felt a stab of guilt, there'd been a point she'd considered abortion - she and Charles had gone through some of their worse rows over that, and to try and imagine life without her in it now - to imagine life without either of her girls - seemed impossible.

She placed a heavy kiss to the top of Lily's head, "Love you sweetheart, you know that, don't you?"

Lily shook her head in confusion at her mother's question. "Of course I do!"

"Good, don't ever forget it." She squeezed her tight and kissed her again before letting her go. "Now, you really think I should wear this dress? I trust you more than Mae, she'd put me in anything."

"I heard that!" Mae said returning to the room with a box containing the diamond necklace she wanted her mother to wear.

"I think you look fab Mum. Dead glam," Lily said.

"Hmm," she turned in the mirror, "does it show my belly sticks out?"

"You look amazing Mum," Mae told her, an exasperated tone to her voice.

"This the product of you two," she said patting it. "And my boobs, I was flat as a pancake until you came along."

"Well you should be grateful for that then, shouldn't you?" Mae replied, sticking her tongue out.

She shook her head at her, "Come on then, hand the necklace over, might as well go the whole hog, hadn't I." She noted Mae's elegant purple dress for the first time. "You look wonderful darling, very grown up."

Mae smiled and moved behind her mother, necklace in hand. "Sit down and I'll put it on for you." Elsie did as she was asked, sitting at her dressing table and scooping her hair to the side, allowing Mae to see the fiddly clasp as she fastened it. "There," Mae declared, letting the chain gently drop onto the back of her Mum's neck. "All done."

Elsie touched it, remembering the anniversary when Charles had given it to her, Lily was two and it was at a horrendous time during their marriage - that was why she never worn it, why it stayed in the safe.

Her musings were broken by the doorbell ringing, she glanced at Mae in the mirror quizzically and then realisation hit - John. 'Oh shit!' She said internally, she'd forgotten she had a date for the evening.

"I suppose that will be whatshisface," Mae muttered. "Your date."

"Go and answer the door please," Elsie instructed, "while I find my shoes. And be nice!"

* * *

 **May 2000**

"Stop panicking."

"I'm not."

"You are. You're pacing. And chewing your nails. If you were a smoker there'd be a pile of cigarette stubs on the floor around your feet."

"Alright. Made your point!"

He turned back to the window, pacing again.

"Charles." She patted the bed beside her. "Come sit down."

"You don't want my massive bulk crushing you."

She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, not often mind, but sometimes you're wrong." She patted the bed again. "So, come sit here and give me a cuddle before the real pain kicks in and I'm screaming at you."

He finally sat beside her, lifting his arm around her shoulders and leaning back as she rested her head against his chest.

"Hospitals smell odd, don't you think?" She mumbled against him, her hand fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

"It's the disinfectant."

"They're so… white… not at all romantic, not the place you'd really imagine for the majority of new life to come into the world."

"No, but they're safe… clean, full of doctors and nurses. No better place really."

She smirked, pressing her face against his shirt. For the past two months he'd treated her like china; had fussed and worried over every twinge. The nursery had been quickly painted and since then he'd filled it with more cuddly toys than she'd ever seen outside of a store.

"Who would have thought that we would be parents to a millennium baby."

"Quite an achievement. Perhaps our timing wasn't as poor as we thought."

"I hardly think our stupidity and over excitement counts as an 'achievement'."

He chuckled, squeezing her shoulder. "Maybe not."

She groaned as another contraction started, shifting back against him, pressing her shoulder blades into his chest. "The next time you say 'trust me, Els, it'll be fine' I'll tell you to fuck the hell off!" She reached to grip his hand, "Oh God!"

"Breathe through it, like we practised. In and out. In and out."

"Stop talking!" She gasped.

"Well excuse me!" Charles replied, a touch of humour in his voice.

She moaned again, leaning forward, her hair falling over her face, "Ohhhhh no, no, no!" She squeezed his hand even tighter, her nails digging into his palm. "Oh shit!"

Charles rubbed soothing circles on Elsie's back, trying to sooth some of the pain. "You're doing really well, Els."

As it began to ease off he flopped back against him, "Bloody hell. And this is only going to get worse. You think you can get hooked on the gas and air?" She glanced to his face, "You think it's bad for the baby?"

"I'm sure it's fine. They wouldn't let you have it if it was bad for you or the baby," he reassured.

He handed her across the mask and she took a long gulp of it, breathing deeply. "Charles," she said, suddenly serious, "what if things change?"

"Things _will_ change, I think we'd be fools to expect them to stay the same with a baby in the house." He noted her worried expression. "But not all change is bad. We're going to be blessed with the love and joy of a little girl or boy."

"I meant me, Charles, you know…" she indicated down her body. "What if _I_ change?"

"You'll still be bloody gorgeous." He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "In case it's escaped your notice, you've changed quite a bit over the past nine months and it's not been an issue. In fact, I've loved the changes."

"Don't say that too loud, I don't want the nurses knowing we've been having sex all the time I've been pregnant. What will they think of me?!"

"They'll think that your husband is irresistible and must be extremely good in bed," he joked.

"All of that is true," she shifted back against the pillows, letting him get to his feet and stretch his legs. "But what if that doesn't work anymore, my mother always made god awful jokes about things not being quite so 'tight'..." She watched as Charles grimaced. "Well, I don't know who else I'm supposed to talk about these things with! You're my best friend! You don't bring things like that up at those classes they send you to - breathing and the like, changing nappies! They don't talk about the messy business, stretching and pulling and oddly shaped boobs." She reached to touch her aching breasts, "Mine have gone an odd shape."

"I don't think I could have coped with having that conversation in front of all those other people. It's not easy for men, talking about… women's things. And I don't know enough about the mechanics of it all to give you an answer."

"It's not easy for women either, believe me." She jolted forward, holding her hands out to him. "Oh god Charles, again, already… they're getting closer!"

Charles moved back to the bed and took her hands, glancing at the clock on the wall. "That was only a couple of minutes. When it's over I'll go and find the midwife."

"Ohhhh," she sobbed, pressing against his chest. "Honey, make it stop, make it stop - you do it."

"I can't. I would swap places with you in an instant if I could, but I can't." He hated seeing her in pain but nothing he tried seemed to help. "What can I do to help? What do you need?"

"Her to be out."

"Her?" Charles furrowed his brow in confusion; they'd agreed not to find out the sex.

"Only a girl would be this stubborn." She offered him a half smile, "I've been talking to her for the past seven weeks."

"You never said… that you thought it was a girl." He knew it was silly but he felt a little left out.

"Well, I just felt…" She gasped, lifting herself forward on the bed, almost to her knees. She pressed her palm against the hard bulge of her stomach. "It was kinda nice," she breathed deeply, focussing on the conversation took her mind off the pain, just slightly. "Having something just between me and her."

He chose not to mention that there were lots of things that were just between mother and child; Elsie could feel every little move the baby made, and she would get to feed her for the foreseeable future. Sometimes he felt Dads didn't really get a look in. Now was not the time to wallowing or petty, so instead he asked, "What did you say to her?"

"Told her about my day, about you, about her home and...ohhh...choosing furniture for it. About you painting and keep… ahhh, keep buying giant teddy bears for her. We talked a lot about you. Especially in the bath, she moved more when I was in there."

"Maybe she'll be a water baby?"

"Maybe." She laughed suddenly, falling back again, kicking the sheets from her legs. "I'm hot." She reached for her water, " _Maybe_. That makes me think of her name."

"Oh, have you had an idea?" They'd been discussing names for weeks, but hadn't been able to agree. Everything Charles liked Elsie hated and vice versa. In the end they'd given up and decided to wait until they met her, hoping she'd provide inspiration.

"I was thinking of what you said, about using family names, our names somehow. If it was a boy either after your father or using your middle name. Or if a girl," she rubbed her hands over her belly again. "My mother's name, or my middle name, and it is May after all. She'll be a May baby."

"I thought you didn't like your middle name? You said it was too old-fashioned."

"I'm rather warming to it. My mother would be ecstatic if I used it. And don't you think that's cute - May baby, maybe."

"May bay?" he said, a chuckle escaping him.

"See. Kinda cute." She drew her knees up, resting her hands on top of them. "My insides are splitting open Charles, not to be too vulgar…"

"I'll go and see if I can find that midwife."

"Okay," she closed her eyes, then sharply opened them again. "No, don't go. Don't leave me."

"I have to, but it will only be for a few moments."

"Charles," she sighed, holding her hand out to him again, "cuddle me." She felt dozy, her head heavy, languid, a combination of the gas and the exertion.

Charles sighed, knowing he couldn't leave her. "Just a quick cuddle," he said. "Then we really need to find that midwife. Your contractions are very close now, it must be nearly time."

She practically pulled him onto the bed with her, pressing herself against him, funny how she'd never felt weak or dependent in anyway until this moment. "Don't leave me, will you, you won't leave us."

"Not if you don't want me to."

"Never." She pressed a kiss to his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too." Charles kissed her gently and placed his hand on her stomach. "Both of you."

"And you won't leave us?"

"I won't leave you."

For a while she was silent, truth be told she felt like sleeping. "Let's spell it M.a.e. Don't want my little girl being stuck in the past," she finally said.

* * *

Exactly 87 minutes later, Mae Elisabeth Carson made her entrance into the world, much to the joy and relief of Elsie and, especially, Charles. Once she'd been checked and cleaned up, the midwife placed her in Elsie's arms - her face pressing against Elsie's bare breast.

"Hello Mae," Elsie whispered, pressing her lips to the top of her daughter's head.

Charles gently stroked Mae's hand as it clenched and unclenched, marvelling at her tiny fingers, her minute nails. "She's perfect."

"She is," she watched as Mae's mouth opened, the tiny pink tongue darting out over plump lips. "Hello baby, _my_ baby." She ran her finger down the perfectly formed nose, "we're going to have so much fun together, you know, you, me and Daddy." She snuffled, feeling Charles' hand on her shoulder. "Oh goodness, Charles, I'm in love. Absolutely."

"Me too. Can you believe we made her?"

"Well, that's another thing, there'll be no more of that - ever."

Charles chuckled. "We'll see. I'm irresistable, remember?"

"I used to think that; then your tiny sperm made this gorgeous, perfect being, which is all well and good, but I had to push it out."

"I think you'll find you played your part in that too. In fact," he lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, "wasn't it you who was so eager that night?"

"Now, Daddy, don't talk of such things in front of our baby." She placed a kiss to Mae's forehead.

"You're only saying that because you know I'm right and you want to change the subject."

"I'm afraid that from now on you're outnumbered in the household. We're always likely to be right," she felt Mae's hand curl around her finger. "Aren't we darling? Always right."

Charles smiled and shook his head. He hadn't given much thought to the fact that he'd be outnumbered now, two to one and everyone knew that girls tended to stick together.

"I suppose I ought to share," she said gently, looking up at Charles' beaming face. "Do you want to hold her? Just so I can cover my breasts up for a while, now most of the hospital staff have seen everything I've got."

"What if I drop her?"

"With your giant hands?!" She giggled. "Come on, you know no more than me, and you've always been steadier. I'm the clumsy one."

Charles slid his hands under Mae's head and bottom and gently lifted her from Elsie's arms. She fussed a little, not liking being disturbed, but soon settled as she came to rest against her father's chest, his steady heartbeat soothing her.

"You see," she said, brimming with emotion, "look how perfect the two of you are together, as if you were born to do it." She smiled, reaching to touch where his hand cupped their baby's bottom, "Makes me fall in love with you all over again too."

Charles beamed at her words as he gently bounced his daughter. His little girl. The words filled him with pride, unbelievable in its strength. He maneuvered himself back into his place on the bed, and leant down to kiss Elsie.

She settled back against the pillows, curled against him, watching as he rocked Mae in his arms, the warmth of his kiss still on her mouth. "I've never been so happy." She said, her eyes feeling heavy with exhaustion.

"No, I can't say I have either. Although there's a few moments that come close. Like when a certain Scottish lass agreed to marry me. And then when she walked down that aisle to say I do."

"It seems forever ago, when I had a waist." She was slipping into sleep, and she thanked God Charles was there to take care of their baby so she could rest.

"I remember it like it was yesterday. But that's enough of that for now. We can talk about how gorgeous you looked another time. You need to rest."

"Mmm, just for a while. You'll stay. Be here when I wake up. Stay with Mae."

He kissed her head. "I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere," he assured. "Ever... I love you."

* * *

 _Let me photograph you in this light_  
 _In case it is the last time_  
 _That we might be exactly like we were_  
 _Before we realized_  
 _We were sad of getting old_  
 _It made us restless_  
 _I'm so mad I'm getting old_  
 _It makes me reckless_  
 _It was just like a movie_  
 _It was just like a song_  
 _When we were young_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 - Dance**

As Elsie sat in the back of the taxi, surrounded by stony silence, she reflected that maybe inviting John Bates to her fortieth wasn't such a great idea after all. She was in the middle, a daughter either side of her, both facing the window and sulking. It struck her as such a shame as both looked so ridiculously beautiful in their respective dresses - yet their pouting countenances did them no favours.

Glancing up she caught John's eye in the rear view mirror, noting his eyes were directed distinctly southward. Casting a look at herself she noted the position she was sitting in, slightly hunched forward, which causing a great deal of her cleavage to be on show - bloody stupid dress. It was far too heavy and low-cut and she was far too old to be wearing it.

"So, this place?" he asked, "It's where?"

"It's my mother-in-law's, actually."

"Ex-mother-in-law?" he asked, and she caught his expression.

"Yes, I suppose so. But we get on well… she spends a lot of time with the children, they both do." She felt Mae huff beside her. "They live in Warter anyway."

"Whew, rich then?"

"Granny's a surgeon," Mae said proudly. "And Grandpa a solicitor."

"Yes," Elsie interrupted quickly. "They've done well. And it's very kind of them to host this for me."

"Granny's arranged for a marquee to be attached to the back, you know." Mae forced herself into the conversation again. "So we can dance in there, it's going to take up a considerable amount of the garden. It's very generous of her. And Daddy will be there, of course…."

Elsie rested her hand on Mae's knee, silently communicating for her eldest daughter to be polite and stop trying to show off.

John nodded, "I'm looking forward to it."

Sighing heavily, Elsie leant back in the car; she wished she was looking forward to it - truth was she couldn't wait to be going home and climbing into bed, perhaps hiding under the duvet until this entire birthday thing was over.

The girls jumped from the taxi as soon as it came to a halt, meeting at one side of the car and hooking arms as they gossiped. She pulled her dress along the seat, dropping her feet to the paved driveway and glancing up as a familiar hand was held in front of her. Breathing deeply, she took it and was helped out of the car.

"Hi," she said.

"Evening…" Charles' voice was deep, as if clouded with some emotion she didn't want to dwell on. "You -,"

He was cut off by the younger gentleman appearing at his side and Elsie abruptly dropping his hand.

"John Bates," he said, proffering his hand to Charles. "I work in Elsie's building."

"Oh, erm…" Charles' eyes were panicked as he cast a quick look at Elsie's reddening face. "Charles Carson." He awkwardly shook the man's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"And you… Quite the daughters you've got there."

"Yes, they're er…" The girls were standing at the steps to the front door watching the scene unfold. "Well, I'd just arrived myself, not even greeted my mother yet."

"Some property she's got."

"Yes." Charles felt his teeth gritting as this 'John Bates' slid his arm around Elsie's back, his hand coming on rest on her bare arm and his thumb rubbing up and down. Charles wasn't sure if she flinched at the movement or not but he knew he did.

"Oh for goodness sake," they all heard Mae huff behind them and Charles turned to see her stalk off up the steps and push open the heavy front door. Lily looked pleadingly to her mum, before going after her sister.

"She upset?" Charles asked concerned. "Something happen?"

"She just hates me, again."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

Elsie shook her hand, "No, I… Just leave her, I don't need you to interfere," she suddenly said defensively, and she felt John glance to the floor, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry," she said immediately, biting her lip.

"That's alright," Charles replied, not wanting to argue with her on her birthday. Besides, he remembered how stressed she used to get when his mother held one of her parties. He imagined this would be similar if not worse.

"Just, you know, frantic getting all three of us ready and now she's in a sulk with me."

"Maybe you need some champagne," she heard John state, and his hand moved from her arm, resting on her back.

"Yeah, let's get a drink." The gift bag Charles held rested heavily on his arm, but he didn't want to present her with it whilst this 'Bates' was present. Nor did he want to tell her how god damn beautiful she looked with this man around; and she did look beautiful, breathtaking. Shining in the dark winter night. Her nervous demeanour - clearly she wasn't too happy about being the centre of attention for the night - only served to heighten her beauty in his eyes.

Turning away from her he quickly took the steps, three at a time, two steps and he was inside and moving away from them.

"Seems pleasant enough." John said.

"Mmm, he is." Elsie heard cars pulling up behind her; she stepped forward, convinced that if she hid in the loo for a few minutes she could pull herself together enough to greet her guests. Why was she so emotional tonight?

As she made to climb the steps, lifting her dress slightly to keep it from tripping her, she felt John's hand slide down her back and make quite direct contact with her backside.

For a second she paused, unsure what to do, but when he didn't move it she continued up the stairs. Good Lord, she'd inadvertently suggested to this man that she wanted him. What a bloody idiot! And her forty - old enough to know better - he must have been 34, 35? What a mistake to invite him so personally, make him think it was a date. It was her fault, she knew that, she had let him think it was a date. Maybe she'd wanted that, to try and pretend she could move on, date again as easily as Charles did.

Making her way inside she'd never been more grateful to see Angela or be pulled into a hug.

"Darling!" her mother-in-law exclaimed, gripping her upper arms. "Happy Birthday, for tomorrow, but happy birthday anyhow." She kissed both of Elsie's cheeks. "Where are my granddaughters?"

"I have no idea, they rushed inside." she said brightly, falsely, keenly aware of Charles hanging his coat down the hall and watching every move.

"Well, let me look at you." She held Elsie at arm's length. "Fabulously gorgeous."

Elsie rolled her eyes, "Mutton as lamb…"

"Nonsense. Like a diva." She patted her hand. "Sassy. You know I always admired that about you - you speak your mind, stand up to all us snobs." Angela seemed to notice John for the first time. "Oh, and who is this fine specimen, may I ask?"

"This is…"

"John!" Anna suddenly exclaimed from the other end of the hall, coming up to greet them. "You came."

"Elsie invited me, couldn't turn down a personal invite from the guest of honour." He kissed Anna's cheek. "Good to see you though, maid, you're looking very nice."

"Maid?" Angela asked, perplexed.

"It's an office joke," Anna explained. "They call me Elsie's maid because I'm always tottering about after her.

"It's mean," Elsie said, annoyed at the idea she was some sort of dragon. "She carries me!"

"Nonsense." Anna hugged her boss. "You look great."

"Thank you. And the house looks lovely, thank you both so much for this…" She looked up as Lily stomped down the hallway to her. "What's that face for?"

"Mae's locked herself in Granny's bathroom and is refusing to come out!"

"What in heaven's name has she done that for?" Angela asked, clearly she'd already made her way through a couple of glasses of the fizzy stuff.

"She's mad at me." Elsie said, "I best go talk to her." She took a glass of champagne from the tray on the side. "I may need this."

The three watched as she headed upstairs, Lily pulling on her hand.

"Challenging business, isn't it, kids?" John said.

"You have no idea, my boy." Angela sighed. "No idea."

* * *

"Mae, honey, please come out." Elsie said for the third time, "I can't stand here all night."

"You don't have to. Go dance with your stupid, idiot boyfriend!" Mae's voice came from under the door.

"Mae… we're not… he's not-"

"He just wants to shag about with you - you do know that, don't you?" she spat cruelly and Elsie was very aware of Lily lying on her Grandmother's bed listening to the argument play out.

"Lil' honey, why don't you go and see where your father is," she suggested.

"Do I have to?" she moaned, wanting to find out how her mother and sister were going to solve this.

"Yes. But for goodness sake don't tell him that your sister is behaving like a child and has locked herself in there."

"Tell him," Mae sulked, kicking at the side of the bath with the heel of her shoe. "See if I care, he probably agrees!"

"Mae! Don't you dare break anything in there! Lily - go and _don't_ tell him." She waited until Lily had closed the door after her. "Mae Elisabeth Carson - you get yourself out of that bathroom this instant, I'm not asking again!"

It wasn't often Elsie's voice took such a tone and when it did Mae knew she was on thin ice. Reluctantly, she got up from where she lay on the bathroom floor, brushed hair hair back from her face and unlocked the bathroom door.

"Thank you," Elsie said, as her daughter's face appeared in the crack of the open door. "Will you sit and talk to me for a minute?"

"I don't like him," she said, folding her arms. "And I know what's gonna happen here tonight!"

"What's that then?"

"You're gonna drink too much, dance with that man, we'll end up having to sleep at Granny's and you'll end up having sex with that prick in your's and Daddy's bed!"

"I promise you I will not be sleeping with John. Not tonight. Not ever."

For a second Mae stopped. She'd been angry for so long with Elsie now - an entire week of sulking over this man's sudden appearance - that it felt good to just stop and think. Elsie had never even corrected her on the reference to _their bed_.

She felt tears fill her eyes as she stared at her mother, "I don't understand," she snuffled, desperately trying to keep her voice level as she spoke. "I know I've been a real child tonight mum, and I'm sorry for that, but I don't understand." She heaved in a deep breath. "I know you still love Daddy. I know it."

Elsie sighed, she didn't know how to have this conversation with Mae. To admit that she still loved Charles would just confuse her. She'd wonder why they couldn't be together. Something that, if she was honest, Elsie had wondered herself over the past few months.

As she gazed at her daughter, turning over in her mind how she was ever going to answer such a complex question, it struck her how mature Mae was now. She was considering things she never had before, asking questions she never had before.

Elsie reached to tidy up her daughter's unruly hair, messy from lying on the bathroom floor and smiled; despite her apparent maturity she could still have her childish tantrums.

"It was a mistake to bring John tonight," Elsie admitted. "But your father and I haven't been together for a long time and, as hard as it may be, you and Lil need to accept that. I appreciate that you don't like John but eventually you will have to accept that either your father and I are going to move on."

"I don't want that," she snuffled, tempted to stamp her foot. "Lil doesn't. Dad doesn't. And you know what, Mum, I don't think you do either."

"Nobody wants their marriage to fail but your father and I… however much we loved each other-"

" _Love_ each other mum," Mae interrupted, drawing back from where Elsie's hands rested on her shoulders "You love each other. Not past tense. And this whole thing is stupid, I think." She turned her back on her mother. "I'm gonna go find Lil."

"Mae, wait!"

* * *

 **28th November 1995**

It was (apparently) the coldest it had been since 1981. Robson and Jerome were at #1 in the charts. Goldeneye had just been released... And Elsie Hughes was just about to turn 21.

Charles knew precisely which one of these occurrences was the most important.

"And after all…." he sang, slightly off-key, as he flipped the frying pan and jiggled the frying garlic and chilli about inside. "...you're my wonderwall!"

His mother stopped by the kitchen door watching him, her brow furrowed as he attempted to imitate the guitar with his vocal chords.

"What are you doing Charlie?"

"Cooking!" he said brightly.

"It's got rather an overwhelming fragrance about it," she complained, opening the French doors at the other side of the kitchen.

"It's the garlic." He turned to glance at her. "I thought you were going?"

"We are."

"Well then…" he smirked, "wouldn't want to keep you. Planes don't wait."

She took the tickets from her purse and flicked through them. "They wait for first class customers dear."

Charles rolled his eyes; he didn't stay at home often these days but when he did he found it took no time at all for his parents to aggravate him, especially his mother - what with all this 'Charlie' business. He hadn't been 'Charlie' since he was eleven years old!

He wouldn't have been there at all save for the fact it was Elsie's birthday tomorrow, her special birthday, and he wanted to treat her. The attic was fine, they were happy, rubbed along nicely, but with his parents away it meant they could have the house to themselves. Eat in the grand dining room. Skinny dip in the hot tub whilst the air around them was frozen - he smirked at the thought of that - and there'd be no housemates to interrupt them.

"Come on Angela, really," his father said, stomping into the room. "The taxi's been outside ten minutes already."

"Don't be a bore, Edward," Angela sighed, reapplying her lipstick. "And you, young man," she said, fixing Charles with her legendary stare. "Don't be up to no good with that girl."

"Elsie," he prompted.

"Yes, her." She didn't have much against the lass, she was pleasant enough - smart, pretty - but she'd hoped Charles would grow out of it. Find someone of their sort for when it came time to settle down.

She kissed her son's cheek, "Bye sweetheart. See you in a fortnight."

"Yep. Enjoy the Maldives." He dug his hands into his pockets, watching as his mother bustled back across the kitchen.

"Come on then Edward."

His father shook his head, rolling his eyes and smirking at Charles. "Now, _do_ make sure you're up to no good with your gorgeous girl," his father implored. "I'll pick you back some Brandy from the duty free."

Charles nodded, followed them to the door and physically relaxed when they'd gone. Finally.

Picking up the phone receiver in the hallway he quickly dialled a number. "Hey baby…"

"I have asked you repeatedly not to call me that."

"You love it."

"Clearly."

"Where are you?" she said, rolling onto her back on their bed, twiddling the phone cord in on hand, a pencil balancing in the other.

"Parents. And they're gone. So get your sexy ass into a taxi and get over here."

"I'm revising!" she laughed.

"Stop revising. You're 21 tomorrow. Get over here."

"I have an exam next week."

"Days away," he smiled. "Now, the parentals are away, the big house is empty, there's a bottle of Dom Perignon in the fridge with our name on it and the hot tub is warming up as we speak. So, come on."

She giggled, "I feel like a kid." But she was already getting up from the bed and throwing open the wardrobe door. "I need to pack."

"Already done, your overnight bag is here, I got all you'll need."

"Such as?"

"Sexy panties, toothbrush, make-up bag, brush, and more sexy panties."

"Bra? Clean clothes?"

"Neither will be required."

"Charles!"

"You'll be naked most of the time and balancing on top of me."

"CHARLES!" she exclaimed, but she was biting her lip to stop from laughing.

"Only kidding. Come on, I'm not stupid. I want to spoil and surprise you. So just get in a taxi, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. See you soon. Love you."

* * *

Elsie rolled her neck, leaning her head back and looking up. The night sky was clear, pristine, a blanket of black decked with the dense stillness of uncountable stars. She watched them, fascinated, relaxed and carefree. Funny how he had the ability to do that to her. Whatever was going on, he calmed her.

"Happy?" he asked, approaching the hot tub, champagne bucket in one hand, two flutes in the other.

Elsie nodded, sighing happily, before glancing toward him. "Charles! You're naked!"

"Yes. And I'll be most disappointed if I find you're not."

"I've kept my underwear on," she said, flicking one of her bra straps. "I can't be out here naked!"

"No one will see," Charles assured her, placing the champagne and glasses on the side of the tub. "The fence is too high, and besides, our nearest neighbour is miles away."

"Don't show off," she sat more upright, her arms balanced along the edge of the tub. "And I am NOT taking my knickers off out here. Fantastic candlelit dinner or not."

"Spoilsport." Charles climbed into the tub, sighing in pleasure as the hot water enveloped him.

"You need to be careful," she said, watching him closely. "That thing's all shrivelled up now, probably frostbite, and I might have had use for it," she teased, pursing her lips together as she watched the expression on his face.

"Charming! Just for that, I may have to withhold the champagne."

"You wouldn't dare," she leant back again, closing her eyes. "It's my birthday, I should get what I want."

"I may need some convincing," he teased.

"I highly doubt that." Still, she deliberately lifted her foot, rubbing her heel up his shin. "I bet that's already 'convincing' you…"

"It may be," he replied.

She dropped her foot to the floor of the tub again, "I'm not going to play if you're going to behave like a boy." She said. "On _my_ birthday."

"But I am a boy. A fact that I'd say you were more than aware of." He pushed himself off his seat and glided through the water to kneel in front of her. He took her face in his hands and pulled her in for a kiss.

She let him kiss her, did her best to resist, made him do all the work until she was giggling.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking it's a good job we ate the same thing because you put so much bloody garlic in that sauce. Maybe not so sexy...babe..."

Charles clutched his chest in mock hurt. "I slaved for hours over that."

"And it was delicious, absolutely. But next time you're going to try and seduce a woman in your parent's hot tub maybe go for something plainer. Where'd you get the recipe from?"

"I...erm… I made it up."

She laughed, sliding her hands under his arms and looping them around his back. "That sounds how a boy might cook."

"I know how much you like spaghetti but my mother's cookbooks don't include anything less elaborate than lobster thermidor with raspberry coulis. And I wanted to cook your favourite. I'd seen them do it on 'Can't Cook, Won't Cook' a few months back. But couldn't remember the finer details like measurements… so I guessed."

"Well, it turned out pretty okay then, didn't it. Slightly less garlic and it will be…" she kissed his nose, "perfection."

He captured her lips in a sweet kiss, before reaching for the champagne. He poured a glass and handed it to her, causing her to giggle as it nearly overflowed. He loved the sound off her giggling; it was a sound he could happily listen to for the rest of his life. He'd even opt for a recording of it as one of his 'Desert Island Discs'.

Pouring his own glass, he sat back down next to her, clinking their glasses. "Happy 21st birthday."

"Thank you," she took a sip of the expensive beverage. "Wow, that's good. Your parents won't notice it missing?"

"No, because _I_ bought it." Elsie began to reply but he held up a hand. "I know you're going to say something about how we're saving so we can move out of that attic and how I shouldn't be wasting money, but this is your twenty-first Els. It's special."

"Charles, this is s a £200 bottle of plonk!"

"£275, actually."

"That's the rent for the next -,"

"It's fine Els. I've been putting a bit extra aside over the last few months - foregoing the odd pint or takeaway - I wanted tonight to be special."

"You're such a fool," she said, but she was smiling at him, curling one leg over his where he sat beside her. "All these candles too," she said gesturing at where he'd stood them around the tub, "and the frost on the ground...so pretty...like you planned it."

"I may be a man of many talents, but I cannot control the weather. Been praying all bloody week that it wouldn't piss it down. That would have really ruined my plans."

"Oh goodness, you know I feel awful, I've been so preoccupied revising I didn't even notice you were stressed. And I'm usually the plotter."

"You are, but you're not the only one who can put together a surprise."

"You're quite the romantic, Mr Carson."

"I'm glad you think so… I have something for you.

"Oh good," she drained the rest of her champagne, and put her glass aside. "Because I feel rather adventurous with that inside me, I may just be tempted to remove my bra…" she winked at him, slipping forward into the centre of the tub.

He grabbed her, pulling her gently back through the water.

"Ooh, steady Charles, no need to rush!" she laughed, nudging between his legs with her knee as she leant in to kiss him. "I see the warm water has helped…"

He placed a hand on her chest, "Just one sec, Els… As much as I would love that, I really do have a gift for you." He reached back into the ice bucket and removed the long stemmed white rose that stood in it. Praying his hand didn't shake - he was nervous now the moment had actually arrived, he presented it to her.

"Aww, Charles, that's very sweet of you." She took it from him, "I don't think I've ever seen a white rose in 'real life' before." She smelt the flower, brushing the petals across her chin. "Is this some seduction technique? Do you want me to trail it across…. Oooh, wait." She tucked the stem of the flower down behind the middle of her bra so the flower rested between her breasts. "There we go. Ta-da!"

"Els…" Charles began. This wasn't going how he'd planned it; how he'd envisioned it in his head and he wanted this moment to be perfect, one that they'd remember for the rest of their lives. "Can you be serious for a minute, please?"

She looked up at him, his wide eyes and pale face. She'd seen that look before. Not for a long time, but she had seen it before. _Was he really going to…?_

Slipping the rose from her bra she held it between her fingers. "Okay."

"I love you Els. You make me so happy… happier than I ever thought I could be. And, if you'll let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way. So…" he reached gently into the middle of the rose and plucked out a diamond ring, "Elsie May Hughes, will you marry me?"

She stared at the ring - some huge, rock of a diamond held tightly between his fingers - what the hell was it doing in the flower? She was very confused… _was he… did he just…_ She looked back to his eyes, watched his mouth move, tried to get past the buzzing in her head long enough to make out what he was saying.

"I know I've asked before and you said it was too soon and we were too young - and you were right, but I'm not talking about getting married tomorrow - I know how important your studies are. I'm talking about building a life together after you've graduated."

She glanced from the ring to his face then back to the ring again. "Oh. Fuck."

Charles' face fell; certain that he'd misjudged things once again. He was just so sure that this was the woman he was to spend the rest of his life with. "I've offended you." His voice was flat, devoid of emotion which was strange considering the tumult of feelings he was experiencing.

"What…?" She only half heard his words, caught up as she was in the idea, in what he was suggesting - of course he'd asked before - three times - but that was different; they really _were_ kids then and he was joking about, they'd only been together five minutes. It was years now. And she was so deeply in love with him. And she knew he felt the same.

She reached to grasp his wrist, "No." She shook her head. "Of course I'm not offended, that's the last thing… Charles, I just…" her face broke into a nervous smile. "I'm overwhelmed."

Her words were a glimmer of hope and buoyed him slightly. "You don't have to answer straight away. I won't push you."

"Of course I'll answer." She threw herself into his arms, the rose dropping into the water and the splash tipping over the side of the jacuzzi. "And of course I'll marry you, of course." She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and whispering by his ear, "I want to spend my life with you."

"Thank God," he breathed and drew back to look at her. "You'll really marry me?"

"In a church and everything." She said, half amused by the sheer wonder in his eyes.

He was elated. _She said yes!_ He took her left hand and slid the cool metal band onto her fourth finger, staring deeply into his eyes as he did so. "I love you..." he whispered, before capturing her in a deep kiss. "...I always will."

* * *

 **Present Day**

It was just after nine when Elsie retreated to the kitchen, escaping from the heavy thrum of music and the throngs of guests in the marquee - trust Angela to go over the top with the invites. She had hired staff for the night and most of them were packaging up leftover food, and as Elsie slunk onto a stool she couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty for how much had gone uneaten. Reaching across the table she pulled a half empty champagne bottle towards her and filled her glass.

It was odd to her sometimes, when she was in these situations, to believe that this was her life. It was a far cry from her birthday parties as a child on the farm, where jelly and ice cream had been an extravagance. She can remember quite sharply the first time Charles had brought her here and she'd felt a tremble in her stomach as his car had pulled up the long drive and revealed the sheer scale of his parents' house. Of course she'd always known he was from a wealthy family but there were few times where he rammed this point home. In fact, quite often, he did his best to avoid being categorised in this manner. Still, there was no denying that he had privileges other students could only imagine and many a time he'd failed to understand her need to have a part time job alongside her studies.

It had never been too much of an issue, the differences between them, and infact they'd found that their different experiences of life had complemented each other well. But then, they always did manage to complement each other quite well.

She jerked on her seat when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, massaging her muscles.

"Why don't you relax, Elsie, come and dance?"

Leaning forward, away from the heady scent of his aftershave, Elsie was surprised to find that it took her a moment or two to remember that she had in fact arrived with John Bates - he was her 'date', to all intents and purposes, despite the fact she was sitting in the kitchen pining for her ex-husband.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I've been very rude, haven't I?" She moved to get up from the stool but instead ended up turning on it, and his hands being either side of her resting on the polished marble surface of the breakfast bar.

"Anna's been entertaining me, she's pretty smart, pretty funny."

"She is."

He was looking at her mouth in a peculiar way, in a way that probably meant she should have been prepared when he kissed her. But she wasn't.

It wasn't that it was decidedly terrible. It's just that it wasn't Charles. And she never had been able to separate the physical from the emotional, not even when she was a teenager.

His lips pressed against hers, then his tongue made a sweep of her mouth and then he pulled back and they stared at each other. She thought she saw the recognition in his own eyes that there was a distinct lack of passion on either side of the encounter.

That certainly wasn't what he expected, he'd lusted after the woman for months. All that effort gone to waste. It wasn't often he made a mistake when choosing a potential fuck buddy but this time he wasn't too proud to admit he'd been wrong. No chemistry.

"Sorry," he said, moving his hands.

"No, I… it's fine," she shrugged. She wasn't sure if it was, but at least it meant they could brush it aside and move on.

"You want a drink or anything?"

"I'm fine, I'm just going to sit here a moment - too much champagne."

"Alright, you don't mind if I…?" He was already walking backwards across the room, back towards the party.

"Enjoy yourself."

Once he'd gone she spun round on the chair again, pressing her forehead on the table. "Oh shit! Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

"How come you're hiding in here?" Beryl asked, entering the kitchen, empty champagne glass in hand. "And what's God got to do with thing?"

"Just getting myself a drink, that's all," Elsie mumbled against her arms, face still hidden.

"Yeah right. And I'm Mrs bloody Clause." She sat down on a stool across from her. "And don't tell me I have got the bosom for it."

"It was just a bit noisy in there."

"And nothing to do with the fact that you and Charles have deliberately avoided each other all night?"

At that Elsie drew in a strangled sob.

"Hey," Beryl rested her hand on her friend's arm across the table, "Hey, what's going on?" She rubbed her palm across Elsie's skin soothingly. "Whatever's happened?"

Reluctantly Elsie sat up, mascara on her cheeks.

"What's all this? Drunk too much?"

"I love him so much," she said, in a half-strangled voice. "But I couldn't make it right, couldn't be what he wanted me to be."

"I assume we're talking Charles and not the guy you brought with you tonight." Beryl said, handing across a napkin.

"What a fucking idiot." She blew her nose. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Who else you gonna cry to about turning forty?"

"Thanks." She snuffled again. "To be honest, I don't even know why I'm here. Could there possibly be anything stranger than celebrating your fortieth birthday in your ex-husband's parents' house?"

"It does sound a little odd, I'll grant you that. But this is you and Charles, not just any old couple. You make the odd seem normal. Who else do you know can bear to even see their ex husband and share a pot of tea with them without wanting to smash him repeatedly over the head with it? Yet you two have even managed to holiday together." She held up her hand before Elsie could interrupt, cutting her off. "And don't give me any shit about 'doing it for the girls'. It suited both of you to spend so much time together."

Elsie sighed heavily. Usually birthdays didn't bother her but for some reason this one was causing her to dwell on things, to analyse things she'd usually brush over. She didn't like it and she certainly didn't like how melancholy it had made her. "When I was twenty one and we got engaged, I thought by the time we were thirty our lives would be sorted. Now I'm forty and I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

"I don't think anyone knows what the hell they're doing. Nobody does. That's the joy of life."

"Ah but the difference is, you have someone to share the crazy with."

"Very true. And you could have too if you'd only swallow your God damn pride and sort it the fuck out." She reached across for Elsie's champagne glass and downed its contents. "And let's face it, if you do think you're done for good with Charles and you can't cope with things like this anymore, well then, at least you've got the sexy new rugby player showing more than a passing interest."

Elsie bristled at the suggestion. "Don't. That can be chalked up on the side of major balls ups. But I seem to have sidestepped that particular issue; a distinct lack of chemistry, when it comes down to it."

"Oh… Look, you gotta sit this out til at least midnight, by then everyone will be so drunk they won't notice when you slip away." She stood from her stool. "But stop moping. You may be forty years old but you and I both know that you're bloody gorgeous and that dress fits you like a second skin. So, as maddening as it is for me to say so, get your perfectly formed tits back in that marquee and do some mingling. Because from the pile of presents I've seen, you've had a couple of thousand spent on you."

"You're a right bitch sometimes, you know that, right?"

Beryl nodded smugly.

"I honestly don't know why we're still friends," Elsie said, placing an affectionate kiss on her friend's forehead.

"Easy. I'm the sexier side of you."

* * *

It didn't seem to matter where she went or who she was talking to that night, Charles couldn't keep his eyes from her. Earlier in the evening she'd seemed sad and that thought niggled at him, distracting him from his own enjoyment of the party - he'd do anything to curb her sadness. But she seemed more settled now and was moving easily from group to group, mingling, chatting, laughing... knocking back the champagne.

Mae had been thoughtful enough to text him prior to their leaving the house, so he'd gotten a taxi at the same time, making it there just a few minutes before they did and then waiting for his girls. As she'd pushed open the car door he'd taken her hand, helping her out, ready to shower her with compliments, to put the recent awkwardness behind them and make sure she had the best birthday party possible.

But she'd brought someone with her. Brought a _date_. And he'd felt like he'd been stabbed in the guts when this stranger emerged from the other side of the car and put his arm around Elsie. Put his hand on her.

"You're staring at her Dad," Mae said, as she came up behind him.

He turned to his daughter abruptly, "What? Sorry?"

"You're staring at her Dad."

"I don't know wha…"

"Don't lie, Daddy." Lily interrupted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Charles swallowed - why was it one's children had the unique ability to make you feel guilt like you never had before? "I was just checking she was alright. That's all."

"You've been staring at her all night," Mae said, folding her arms and frowning.

He smiled, "You know, when you frown like that you look exactly like your mother when she is in one of her moods… it's a look I'm sure you've seen often," he said pointedly.

She twisted her mouth, "Yeah. Well, I'm sorry about that, but she brought that man with her and he's clearly a git."

"Now, you don't really know him." Charles said, "Let's be fair." He twisted his head round again, spotting where Elsie had moved to chat to Beryl's son at the opposite side of the room. If he were being honest he didn't really feel like being fair, he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Elsie dating somebody else - that brought its own share of guilt with it, considering how Elsie must have felt when he was dating Alice (as short lived as that whole thing was).

Still, this 'John' appeared to have been given the brush off. Either that, or he'd bored of waiting for Elsie's company, as he'd spent the entire night either laughing, drinking or dancing with Elsie's assistant Anna - pretty young thing she was; Charles wasn't entirely sure John was the one for her, but each to their own.

"Dad, go and ask her to dance," Mae said forcefully, her hand pushing into her Father's back.

He glanced over the dancefloor to where Elsie stood talking to William - she was stunning, more than stunning, a goddess. The sparkle of her dress shining in the darkness of the room.

"Dad!" Mae said again, pushing him harder until his feet shifted slightly.

"Mae-bae…" he grumbled lowly, but when he glanced up Lily was standing in front of him, her chocolate-brown eyes pleading, her expression almost desperate.

"Please, Daddy!" she said. " _Please_."

"Pleeeease…" Mae added and he felt her push him once more and then he was somehow making his way across, avoiding dancers as he kept his eyes on Elsie. She looked up before he even reached her, held his gaze the whole time he moved.

He ignored the boy standing with her, the conversation they were clearly in: "Dance with me," he said, more of a statement than a question, and then he held his hand out and she slipped hers into it, following him onto the dancefloor.

She felt oddly detached from what else was going on around her, she knew people would be watching - of course they would - and Charles had never really enjoyed dancing to pop music, not since he was in his early twenties anyhow. As he slid his palm across her back, his fingers tracing the shape of the gemstones on her dress, the feel of her bra beneath it, the warmth of her, the music abruptly changed - one track cut off as another began.

It was slower, which was one thing in Charles' favour, and they soon settled into a rhythm, swaying discreetly as others around them did the same.

"You look beautiful," he said, looking into her eyes, determined to let her see the honesty in his own, that there were no hard feelings, no matter what he'd said the other day. He wanted her to be happy, wanted things to be amicable; they'd always been such good friends no matter what else had transpired.

Elsie smiled at him, glancing up to his face; he looked so sad, almost lost.

"Thank you," she whispered, then looked away again, it was too hard…

She focussed on the music, on the lyrics; it was a song she knew, Mae had played it loads the previous year, dancing around the kitchen to it...

 _ **I tell myself you don't mean a thing,  
And what we got, got no hold on me  
But when you're not there, I just crumble  
I tell myself I don't care that much,  
But I feel like I die 'til I feel your touch...**_

Gasping for air she breathed deeply, very keenly aware of why the previous song had suddenly ended - her two daughters were standing expectantly at the side of the dancefloor, Lily's hands clasped in front of her chest, Mae's arm around her younger sister's shoulders.

"I think we've been set up," she said.

"Is that so bad, really?" He was staring down at her, holding her closer now, pressing her against him - he'd watched her dance with that man earlier in the evening and it had almost killed him. "Elsie…?" He prompted.

"It will just confuse them," she said, tears in her eyes, her chest tight. "It's too hard."

He didn't want to see her cry, never, and he slid his fingers up into her hair, guiding her face to his chest. For a while they moved like that, he kissed the top of her head - once, twice - and then dropped his face down to the side of hers, whispering by her ear, "I love you. You know that. It's only ever been you. It always will be."

And then he turned her head, closed his eyes and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

 _ **Only love, only love can hurt like this,  
Only love can hurt like this  
Must have been a deadly kiss  
Only love can hurt like this**_

Snuffling, Elsie shifted her hand on his back, clutching at him, she felt almost desperate - like she wanted to crawl inside him and disappear.

"I don't want a divorce…" she mumbled; embarrassed and ashamed.

His relief was palpable. "Neither do I."

Her heart trembled at his words and she moved her face, eyes closed as she sought his mouth and they finally let their feelings take over and their lips touch. Tentatively, shakily, but it was a kiss and it felt perfect.

When he drew her into a hug, kissing her head again, brushing haphazardly at his face to to clear the tears from his eyes, he caught sight of his two girls jumping up and down at the side of the dance floor and he grinned at them - parent trap indeed.

* * *

Lily's hand felt warm and secure in hers as Elsie made her way carefully down the icy steps to the waiting taxi. In fact, both of her daughters seemed to be floating on air ever since the impromptu dance (and kiss) that somehow seemed to have taken place between she and Charles. She wasn't quite sure how it had happened, or what it all meant yet, but she was certain of one thing - she was leaving the party feeling a whole lot happier and more secure than she had when she'd arrived.

She watched as Mae hugged her father goodnight, how the young lady seemed to linger in her hold of him, before clambering into the back of the taxi. Lily did the same and Elsie folded her hands together, suddenly feeling like she wasn't exactly sure what to do with them.

"Well…" she mumbled, when they were 'alone'.

His smile was serene, "Well."

The warmth in his tone made her step in closer to him. "I suppose we say goodnight?"

"I suppose so." He placed his hands gently on her upper arms and leant in to tenderly kiss her head. "And, officially, Happy Birthday."

"Ah, I'd forgotten," she said, surprised, she hadn't noticed it was after midnight.

"I'll call you later in the day?" His thumbs were rubbing gentle circles against the material of the jacket she had around her arms - his jacket.

"A-ha."

"And we'll, you know…"

"Arrange to meet?"

"And talk?"

"And talk."

This was silly. She'd known him for over twenty years yet she felt like a teenager experiencing her first real crush.

"Good." He tilted his head down as if he were going to kiss her mouth and she lifted her head a little, only for them both to look away embarrassed when they heard the distinct giggling of their girls.

"Subject of amusement," he said.

"Perhaps we should save this for when we're really alone?"

She nodded, reluctantly parting from him.

"Wait, mum!" Lily shouted, scrambling over Mae's legs, leaning out of the car and pointing her phone at them. "Let me get a picture of you two together."

"Oh Lil, you know how I hate these things," Charles grumbled.

He felt Elsie's hand momentarily rest on his forearm, "A picture will be fine."

She stood beside him, smiling at her two girls staring up at them from the back of the taxi.

"Four seconds to take it," Charles said.

"Mum wouldn't even get her hair right in four seconds!" Mae teased.

Lily snapped away a few times on her phone, "There. Done."

"Painless see Dad. We'll text it to you later."

Now he smiled, feeling Elsie's hand squeeze his very briefly, "Goodnight Charles," she said, before climbing into the back of the car with the girls.

"Goodnight darling," he said, closing the taxi door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 - The Past. The Future.**

* * *

 **2010**

Leaning over the sink to rinse her face Elsie grimaced at the cold slap of the water on her skin. It was after 1:00 and she was exhausted. Lately, it seemed she went to bed in the early hours of the morning each and every day. And when you were up again at 6:00 to get two kids ready for school it wasn't ideal.

Still, at least it was a Saturday and she could maybe sleep in; the kids could manage to get up and help themselves to cereal, then they'd usually flake out on the sofa and watch cartoons. No doubt Charles wouldn't be getting up early; he hadn't even come home yet.

"Mummy?" A blurry voice said behind her and she shifted the towel from her face.

"Mae, honey, what are you doing up? It's very late."

"Thirsty."

"Okay, shall Mummy get you some water?" She rested her hand on Mae's shoulder, "You had a bad dream?"

Mae nodded; she'd had a spate of them of late and often woke Elsie in the middle of the night standing beside the bed. The thing was they seemed to be going through an odd spell where she wouldn't actually tell Elsie that was what had happened, as if she didn't want to admit it.

"Do you want to sleep with Mummy, or get in with Lil, how about that?" She brushed her daughter's hair back from her forehead. "Share the bunk?"

Mae nodded, sleepily. "Daddy?"

"He isn't home yet, sweetheart, he won't be long. Pop on into bed with Lil and I'll bring your drink up."

Elsie was in the kitchen rinsing a glass when Charles came in, merry but not drunk. He circled her waist with his arm as he kissed her neck, "Hi baby."

"Hi. Good time?"

"Great."

She filled the glass with water, "You win plenty?"

"Not so much, but then I didn't bet much neither." He kissed her again, smoothing his hand down her back.

"Let me go a second. I need to take this up to Mae."

"Another dream?" he asked concerned.

"Mmm, I think I'll take her out in the morning, for breakfast, just the two of us, if you don't mind. I want to talk to her about these dreams...they're bothering me."

"Me too. I'll entertain Lil whilst you're gone." He loosened his tie and slipped his jacket off, putting on the kettle and dropping a tea bag into a mug as he waited for her to return.

"You want some tea?" He asked as she came down the stairs, turning off the hall light and heading into the lounge.

"No, I'm going to bed." She plumped the cushions on the sofa, and he watched, leaning against the door frame.

"Casino was great fun, you know, we should go together."

She made a noise in the back of her throat, halfway between a grunt and a sigh, non-committal.

"You ever been?" he asked.

She glared at him, "Why would I have ever been? I was nineteen when I came to York, Charles, and knew nothing of the place and I met you within a few weeks. So anything that I've seen of York I've seen with you."

"Don't snap at me Els," he said, brushing a hand through his hair.

She looked at him casually leaning against the door, his shirt collar loose. He still looked young, dashing - a far cry from how she felt about herself.

"Were there women there?"

He bristled at the insinuation, "Course. It's not a 'men's only' casino."

"You know what I mean."

"There were women from work, yes. And the women who work there."

She threw down the last cushion, switched off the main light and and passed by him, close as they were jammed between the lounge and the hall. "Strippers?"

"Elsie." He touched her wrist, "It wasn't that kind of night."

"How would I know?" She shrugged. "You tell me very little and I wasn't invited."

"It was a work thing."

She pulled away from him, returning to the kitchen, pouring water into his mug and making his tea for him.

He slid into a chair at the kitchen table, "Sweetheart, there's no need to be worried… you know I only have eyes for you."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah because I'm such a catch at the moment." She put his tea down in front of him. "Non-stop glamour."

"That's not what I want." He reached his hand out to touch her but she stepped back. He smiled, desperate to lighten the mood. "Jealous, Elsie?"

She stared at him, somehow he'd managed to hold onto the tan they'd got on holiday in Spain that summer, hers faded immediately, he managed to still look sun-kissed and rugged. "Yes," she admitted. "But then it isn't the same, is it? When we were younger us getting jealous of someone fancying either one of us was kinda cute, kinda fun - to tease with it." She shrugged, "Now it just adds to my insecurities."

"You have no need to be insecure."

"Don't I?"

"Christ Els, must we keep doing this? Can't we have one conversation without trying to hurt the other?"

"I'm surprised you noticed, you're not home long enough for us to do much of anything."

"Well, you make it such a delightful place to be." As soon as he'd muttered the words he regretted them but there was no taking it back.

"Well there's the door!" she suddenly shouted. "If that's how you feel, just go!"

The kitchen was suddenly sharply quiet, as if the air had frozen around them. It was the first time either of them had openly addressed the fact that their marriage was all but over.

Charles couldn't find the words to respond, or maybe he didn't want to, maybe he couldn't.

"I'm tired," she said, "I'm really, _really_ tired."

She left him alone in the kitchen and went up to undress for bed.

* * *

Making his way up the stairs some time later Charles was struck by the silence of it, there was a heaviness in the air and he wasn't sure quite what he was going to do to shift it. There was no light on the landing, only the faint one offered by the lamp in their room and he headed toward it, feeling like he was taking the steps towards something irreversible.

He pressed the pads of his fingers gently against their bedroom door and it slid open a crack. Elsie was lying on the bed, on top of the sheets, in just her bra and tights, staring at the ceiling.

"Thought you'd be asleep," he said; she didn't look at him and, for a second, he thought of turning away, going back downstairs and sleeping on the couch to avoid any kind of confrontation with her. The thing was things had been different over the past couple of weeks; he was so used to their arguing now it had become part of the daily course of his life, but recently they hadn't argued, they just hadn't spoken at all. If he wasn't at work she was, and when they were home together she was always so tired, so tetchy. And he worried so about the downturn in his business and the bills they had to pay - but he'd never impose that on her; he was the man, it was his role to provide.

His wife, his Elsie, seemed a shell of herself. Like the woman he knew had turned inwards and couldn't find a way back, or even be bothered to try. In some ways the arguing was better than the silence.

Stepping into the room he shut the door behind him and leant back on it.

"It's us, isn't it, causing Mae's dreams?"

She glanced to him, her eyes heavy, "I think so."

He hated that. He knew it was the case, they both did, the atmosphere between them was inescapable and of course their children shared it, they lived in it.

He stared at her for a moment, they needed to have this discussion, make some decisions, but there was something different tonight, something edgy and almost claustrophobic about it all.

"Elsie. We need to talk about this."

She shrugged, "Why? What's the point?"

"Clearly you're unhappy, and I feel like shit and we… We need to talk it through."

She seemed to take a moment to consider her words, mulling on them; the entire time she'd not moved on the bed, her hands were still clasped above her stomach, her breathing was even - it was as if she wasn't even there.

"I can't keep apologising for wanting something for me, for doing something I want."

Charles' breath, in contrast, was shallow and he moved across the room to sit on the stool at her dressing table afraid his legs wouldn't hold up.

"I don't want you to apologise."

"But you make me feel guilty for it, isn't that the same thing?"

"I'd never purposefully…" he rubbed at his face, exhausted by it all.

"This isn't one thing Charles, for either of us. This has been building for a long time." Her eyes were sad and incredibly dark. "All we do is argue," she raised her hands as if to emphasise the point, sighing heavily. "That's all we ever do. When did we last go twenty-four hours without snapping at each other? Making spiteful comments, underhand jibes? It's exhausting, Charles, I'm exhausted by it."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek; she was right, he knew she was right, and they'd been coming to this point for so very long know - but still, he didn't want to have to face it. "We could try harder."

"We've been trying for the past two years, haven't we?"

He looked to the floor, hands clasped together in front of him as he nodded. "Yes. Yes, we have."

"I don't want to hurt you, or the children, God knows that's…" her voice broke as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I know. Neither do I. I care for you so very much."

"And I you - but we can't keep doing this. It's tearing us apart. Can you imagine spending another forty, fifty years together and day after day it's like this until we get to the point where we don't even bother talking anymore, we just exist? I don't want that Charles. For either of us."

"I know you're right, I just didn't…" he leant back, rolling his aching neck and running a hand through his hair as he groaned in frustration. "I didn't want it to have to come to this, you know. So final."

"I know. Maybe we could try…" her voice was on the verge of snapping apart. "We could try... living apart for a while, see what happens, how we feel, a few months down the line."

"Maybe."

He felt like he should hold her, say something meaningful, he wasn't sure what… she was still crying, silent tears, and she looked so small lying there on the bed, tiny; he didn't remember her losing so much weight.

"I'll find a place," he said solemnly.

"This is your home," she whispered. "You love this house."

"You stay here, with the children, and I'll find somewhere to go… just until we know what we're gonna do."

"I'm so sorry," she said, wiping at her face.

"No, you have no need to do that. We've both played our part here, we've both let it get to this mess."

"I feel I've let you down. I never imagined that we'd get married for it to come to this."

"Me neither. That I am sorry for, and for the girls, I'm sorry we couldn't make it work for them."

She gulped, covering her face, they were going to be devastated, confused - all this pain…

He paused by the side of the bed, rested his hand on her shoulder. "I'll sleep downstairs."

She glanced up at him, her eyes red and glassy. "I made up the spare room," she said plainly. The implication that whatever happened tonight he wouldn't be sharing their bed anymore stabbed him. He remembered the first night they'd slept together, not sex, sleep - watching a movie on his bed and falling asleep and waking up holding her in that warm, attic room.

How had it come to this?

* * *

 **29th November 2015 - Elsie's 40th birthday**

"Mum!" Lily called for the third time, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the phone in her hand held aloft. "MUM!"

"Stop yelling, I'm here," Elsie said as she made her way down the stairs. "I was washing my face, trying to warm up after that cold wind out there today."

"Dad's on the phone," she said, holding the receiver out for her Mum with a slight smirk on her face.

"Oh." She said, her voice clipped. The image of him on the other end of the line suddenly filled her with nerves. "Oh…"

Lily pushed the receiver in front of her face. "Go on then, take it."

"Erm, sure…" she reached for the phone and stood for a moment in the centre of the kitchen, feeling like she was swaying as she lifted it to her ear. "Hi," she said, a false brightness to her voice.

"Hi. Happy birthday."

She felt her cheeks pull tight as she smiled, "Thank you. I erm," she turned, checking Lily had returned to the lounge. She closed the door and went to sit at the table. "I wanted to say thank you, you know, for my gifts… they were incredibly thoughtful and so generous, Charles. So, _so_ generous. The spa weekend on its own would have been enough, perfect with the girls, and then the kindness…" she felt her voice catch. "The thought you put into making that album for me."

"You're welcome, it was…" he laughed nervously, "the girls were going through pictures of us the other day and I just thought you'd like it. Pictures of just the three of you from across the years. I couldn't ask for a better mother for my children, Elsie, that's all I wanted to say, really."

She closed her eyes; his words made her want to cry, and she was silent for a long time.

"Elsie? You still there?"

"Yes." Her voice cracked, "Yes, I'm still here."

"Good. Thought I'd lost you there for a minute."

"No, just…" She swallowed. "Well, I was very touched. And my goodness Charles… that ring? How expensive must that have been!"

Charles was confused. _Ring? What ring?_

"I'm not quite sure what you intended by it, I mean clearly when you purchased it we weren't, what I mean is we hadn't…. I think it's best if we discuss it face-to-face, don't you?" She finally settled on.

"Yeah. I was calling to suggest that," Charles was relieved at being given the opportunity to find out what was going on - he suspected Mae and Lily had been up to their usual tricks, but heaven knows where they'd found the money.

"It is beautiful though, very beautiful."

"I'm glad you liked it." Even though he had no idea what the ring looked like, if it made Elsie happy, then he was happy too. "Are you free on Tuesday afternoon? I'd suggest tomorrow, but I'm away at a meeting in Manchester."

"Oh no - early morning train?"

"That's the one. Dreading it; all those people."

"Remember those first couple of years training when your father made you go to London every Tuesday and Thursday to work in that huge firm? You used to get the train at 5:30 in the morning, you were getting up before you'd even gone to bed!" She chuckled at the memory.

Charles groaned. "Don't remind me. I'll have to set about three alarms and leave them across the other side of the room if I'm going to get up on time."

"You never were an early morning person," she said, then sighed, and for a long moment they were silent, just listening to the other breathe, imagining where they were, where they were sitting, what they were doing.

"Are you…?" he asked, worried by the silence.

"Where would you…? she said, simultaneously, and they both smiled.

"Sorry," he said gently, "Go on."

"I was just going to ask where you'd like to meet? That's all," she finally asked, her voice very soft.

"Oh… erm… I hadn't really thought about where," he admitted; he'd been too preoccupied with the when and how to ask her. "Where would _you_ like to go?"

"We could just go somewhere central, like that Starbucks that sits on the corner at Stonegate. We can both easily park somewhere near, it doesn't take too long to get to."

"Okay. About two-ish?"

"That sounds wonderful." She found herself smiling, staring down at her hand as it drew lazy patterns upon the table. As he spoke to her she couldn't help but recall that moment on the dancefloor - she'd dreamt of it all night after all, the sound of his voice husky in her ear, the words he breathed life into, the feel of his mouth upon her skin...

"Right, well… I'll leave you to it then."

"What? Oh, right...well, you're not interrupting anything but if you're busy and - ,"

"No… I just… I didn't want to keep you; thought you'd be busy celebrating." He hated that he stuttered, but he couldn't help it. He was nervous, unsure of where they stood, what they were to each other now. He didn't want to push her too far, too quickly, but he didn't want this phone call to end.

She giggled, sounding something like a young girl rather than a forty year old woman, and her hand went instinctively to cover her mouth. "The girls collapsed on the sofa as soon as we got home, I think last night's celebrations did them in!" She laughed again. "Your mother got me a rather expensive bottle of Gin though which I may have to test out later."

"That sounds like mother."

"She's nothing if not reliable. She did also give me vouchers for the salon in town that she likes - so I can get a massage from one of those well-sculpted young men that work there, you do know Angela swears by them, don't you?"

"What a very disturbing thought!"

Elsie laughed, chewing on her thumb nail, "Now, now. Even older women have needs." She wasn't quite sure what possessed her to say it, but as soon as the words left her mouth she gasped. "Oh god! That sounded terrible!"

He chuckled. "It did rather."

"Oh sod it, I'm already putting my foot in it." She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I like that you feel relaxed enough with me to say whatever comes into your head." He paused for a moment, considering his words carefully. "I hated the awkwardness between us… after what almost happened in your kitchen and then the whole Bonfire debacle. It's nice to have some normality back."

"Normality!" she joked. "Have we ever had that, with _our_ children?!"

He laughed, and then remembered their faces as they'd watched he and Elsie dance together and kiss. "How happy are they today?"

"On a scale of…?"

"One to ten?"

"Hmm, probably about fifty-two, perhaps… until we confirm with them what's actually happening, that is. It might go up to seventy when I tell them we'll be meeting for coffee."

"I hope it continues to increase after that."

The hope in his voice, rather than startle or unnerve her, filled her with warmth. "Yes, I hope so too."

"Then I think, on that happy note, I shall take my leave. Still got a few things to sort out before I head to bed."

She glanced to the clock, it was almost seven, "You light weight." She teased.

"I have an early morning!" he protested. "That's my excuse anyway. "

"Oh yes, I forgot." She got up from her chair, almost reluctant for the conversation to end. "Well, I hope it goes well and I suppose I'll see you on Tuesday."

"Thanks. Enjoy the rest of your evening." He couldn't help the pang of disappointment at not being with her on it.

"Thank you. And thanks again for your gifts, I'll enjoy the spa… and I'll treasure the other things."

"You're welcome. Good night Elsie."

"Night Charles."

She hung the phone up on the kitchen wall, standing stock still for a moment as she reflected on his words, on the kindness in his voice. When she looked up it was because two faces were hovering by the door grinning at her.

"You two!" she admonished, but then softened with a smile. "We're meeting for coffee on Tuesday and we'll talk things through then - and that is _all_ the information you're getting for now."

"Oh but Muuuuuum!" protested Lily.

"That's great mum," Mae said, the sting of their argument from the previous night still very evident in demeanour. "I hope it goes well. Where you meeting?" she asked casually, slipping into a chair.

"Starbucks, in town. At 2:00."

Mae glanced to Lily, an idea already forming.

"Nice. Not too quiet that you'll be the centre of attention when you start fawning over each other," she teased, opening the takeaway drawer. "Just one thing mum, no face licking in public - you can get arrested for that you know."

"Eeewwww!" Lily's face contorted at the image.

"Don't be vulgar, Mae!" Elsie said, but was grinning as she whacked her daughter playfully with a tea-towel. "I guess as you're rummaging about in there it means you want take-out for dinner? You do realise we have plastic tubs of leftover party food in the fridge?"

"Oh yeah," Mae said, closing the drawer. "There any of that salmon thing left?"

"There is." She placed her hands on Mae's shoulders. "Tell you what, why don't you two set the table and sit down and I'll rustle something up."

"Thanks Mum," Lily said, skipping across and hugging her around the waist.

It was whilst they were both sitting waiting for dinner, facing each other, having a 'kick-fight' beneath the table, that their phones simultaneously binged.

"Woah! That was weird," Elsie observed as she put a platter down. "You two in trouble?"

"Nope!" Lily said, "just my friend reminding me we have Hockey tomorrow."

"Nothing important," Mae said, flicking her fingers over the message.

"Sure…" Elsie said, turning back to the fridge to take out a bowl of pasta salad.

Mae glanced over to her sister and mouthed dramatically, "Oh shit!"

They had received the same text message from their father: **What's this about a ring?! What have you two been up to?!**


	11. Chapter 11

_**time for coffee...**_

* * *

 **Chapter 11 - Reconciliation**

 **1st December 2015**

There were things they needed to discuss. Serious things. Proclamations he wanted to make, promises, pledges - call it what you will. All he knew was, he was forty-one years old and had reached an impasse in his life. The fact that the woman he'd loved since he was twenty years old was living apart from was unfathomable. You could make a pretty long list of reasons as to why that was the case but at the end of it all you might as well burn it because all that mattered was the he loved her: he'd loved her when she arrived late to that lecture and slipped on the floor, he'd loved her when he was kissing her in a crowded bar at Christmas, loved her intensely when he married her, loved her immeasurably when they'd been in that stuffy hospital room both exhausted beyond belief as they'd held their first daughter. Even when he'd moved out, even when they'd torn each other to shreds with their words and their hurt and their jibes.

He'd reached the conclusion years ago that his heart belonged to her no matter what happened.

So, as he'd laid there, in the early hours of Sunday morning, staring at his ceiling and remembering the feel of her body against his as they'd danced hours earlier at the party, he couldn't quite understand why he wasn't finding some bloody way to just be with her.

So he'd started.

He was a man of organisation if nothing else. Therefore Sunday had been spent writing a different kind of list - a list of all the things he planned to change, the things they needed to change, if this was going to work. Love may not always be enough, but it was a damned fine place to start.

He'd called her later that day - it was her birthday after all, arranged to meet. He was glad when she suggested Starbucks - it was neutral ground, not too far from either of their offices, and besides that he liked the Caramel Waffles they did in little bags on the counter.

She'd got there twenty minutes early, he'd arrived three minutes late (parking!) and they'd both stood staring at each other across the shop for a good forty-five seconds before one of them made a move.

Then a shared smile, bashful perhaps, nervous as he made his way across to their table.

"Hi," he said, reaching to rest his hands on her upper arms.

"Hi," she looked up to his face, his cheeks and nose were rosy from the crisp weather and it made her smile, some things about him never changed.

"Sorry I'm late - couldn't park." He kissed her cheek respectfully, and she smiled at that too, turning her head just slightly so she could kiss the corner of his mouth, very quickly, but enough to let him know she wasn't backing out of this.

"It's okay; it's a nightmare at the moment, all those roadworks."

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

"I've got a pot of tea, actually. But you go."

She sat back down, fiddling with the ends of her scarf as she waited for him to return. How childish it seemed, to be so damned nervous around him - he'd been with her through so much, seen her during illness, bad moods… childbirth for god's sake! It was silly to be nervous with him now. Yet she was - more nervous than she'd ever been around him, because she couldn't escape the niggling feeling that this was their last chance to fix things.

Charles returned to the table, and set his cup down, as well as a bag of caramel waffles. Once he was settled in his chair, he opened the bag and offered one to Elsie. She shook her head. "Thanks for meeting me," he said. "How's your day been?"

So apparently he was nervous too, she found that endearing. She leant back in her chair slightly, twisting her body to face his, legs crossed. "It was fine, you know this time of year, busy of course. And the heating's been on the blink for the past few days in the office so…" She shrugged.

"Not the best timing," he agreed. "Did you enjoy your party?"

She chewed down on her lip, her eyes sparkling as she watched him. "I did. I had the hangover from hell come Sunday morning - not the best way to be on your birthday - but I'm over that now - no wine for a while though." She sat forward again, uncrossing her legs and reaching into the open bag of mini waffles. Taking one out she began separating the two sides, picking at it with her thumb nail.

"I hope the girls looked after you on Sunday?" he asked. Shortly before they'd left the party, he'd instructed Mae to leave a glass of water and painkillers on Elsie's bedside table, anticipating that she may need them.

She chuckled, "Oh, they did." She dropped the crumbled waffle onto her napkin. "Mae's knowledge of dealing with a hangover consists of painkillers by my bed and eating rubbish food… so we went to McDonald's and had cheeseburgers then watched my favourite films for the afternoon."

"Let me guess… Casablanca?"

"Well, yes… but you know I have a fondness for Mamma Mia now too! And the girls will sing to that."

"I can see it now. The three of you dancing round the living room." He smiled at the image.

"They danced." She sipped her tea. "My head wasn't quite in the right place for it. Even after the greasy breakfast."

"You should have called; I'd have come round and made you poached eggs on toast." It had been their hangover cure of choice when they'd been at university.

She smiled at that, she had fond memories of him being in her tiny kitchen in the shared student house, his huge bulk filling it as he insisted on making her breakfast.

Charles' voice brought her back from her reverie. "I can't remember if I told you on Saturday, but you looked stunning. That dress was… wow!"

She felt her cheeks warm at the statement, it wasn't just the words - the compliment - it was the way he said it, an odd mix of nerves and sincerity. "You did tell me, twice I think. And thank you, it wasn't my choice, it was chosen for me by our darling girls and your mother - hence the glam factor being way higher than I'd usually go for." She shrugged, "But it was nice to feel spoilt, I don't mind admitting that."

"You deserve to be spoilt every now and then."

"I guess you're only forty once." She refilled her tea cup, taking her time adding milk and stirring it.

"I guess you are. Did whatshisname… John… have a nice time?" He didn't really want to talk about her 'date', but he needed to know, before this conversation went any further and they got into the nitty-gritty of their problems, if there was anything in it.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh god. What a mistake on my part that was." She sipped her tea. "I thought…, it was an impulsive invite you see, he'd been chatting to me for weeks, months I suppose, flirting." She noted the look that crossed Charles' face. "And I was still annoyed over the bonfire thing and the upset… it's why I decided we should finally divorce. You know. I thought we needed to make a clean break, but that hurt even more, so when John next started flirting I thought it best to just move on, make a quick move, and so I invited him." She shrugged, embarrassed, "I knew as soon as we got to the party it was a mistake. I was mortified by people looking at us together. What can I say, I'm a jealous woman and Alice… well, that really shook me."

She leant back in her chair, uncrossing her legs and stretching them out. "Ah well, I guess I can still learn things. And he seems okay, he and Anna have always had this...flirtation...I have a sneaking suspicious it may have gone a step further now."

He nodded, "They did look rather friendly." He picked up another waffle. "You should know… Alice was all Robert and Cora's idea," he admitted, glad to finally be able to explain the whole thing to her. "I didn't go looking for a date. They set us up. And, we got on well enough… she was well spoken, friendly-"

"Pretty?" she asked, a little too quickly for it to be seen as a casual reflection.

Charles smiled. "You did say you were a jealous woman. Yes, I suppose she was pretty. But she paled in comparison to you."

She allowed herself a smile at that, fiddling with her teaspoon on the side of the saucer. "And you would be fine, with me dating, I suppose?" She knew she was leading him but it seemed they'd both made decisions about where this conversation was going and the tone was growing more relaxed and natural.

He looked down at his coffee, stirring it and watching the patterns the cream made as it cut through the dark liquid. "I'd hate it."

"Lucky I'm not dating him then, nor intending to," she said, her voice low and heavy with meaning. "You know, Charles, before we get too deep into things, I wanted to just… that ring." She looked at him meaningfully, wiggling her fingers deliberately on the table. "You'll see I'm not wearing it, but that doesn't mean I don't love it."

"The girls helped me pick it." He didn't want to tell her that it hadn't been his idea; he'd promised the girls when he'd spoken to them the previous evening, that he'd play along, but he didn't want to lie either, not when he was trying to start afresh. He'd reimbursed his mother for it though; so technically he had bought it now. "Why aren't you wearing it, if you don't mind me asking?"

She breathed deeply, chewing her lip again. "I'm not sure…" she sighed, "I'm not sure what it means, Charles, if I'm honest. You didn't put a tag on it and..." She shrugged, "Well. I don't want to assume anything."

"It's an eternity ring. It symbolises never-ending love."

She smiled, "I know that, I know what it means. I'm not sure what you want it to mean, to us, for us. If there even is an 'us'."

"Well that depends. Do you want there to be an us?"

"Oh goodness," she groaned. "I have to be the one to make that decision…?" She tapped her fingers nervously upon the table top for a moment, glad he was silent, not pushing.

Charles swallowed. She was right, it wasn't fair to put all this on her. "Would… would it help if I told you that I did… want there to be an us, that is?"

She felt her pulse quicken at his words, something in her chest tighten and bloom. ' _Yes, it made all the difference. Of course it did_.' But she didn't say that, she remained silent, turning his hopeful words over in her mind.

Reaching back into her handbag and pulling out the small box, she flipped open the lid and took out the ring. "You see, Charles, the thing is, the last time you put a ring on my finger that symbolised our future, it was my wedding ring." The absence of which now seemed hugely significant as they both glanced at her bare finger.

He reached for her hand and ran his thumb over her empty ring finger. "When I slipped that ring onto your finger that day and made my promises to you, I meant every word. I'm only sorry that I didn't live up to them."

"Oh God, don't say that." She turned her hand over, letting their fingers fold around each other's, finding comfort in the touch of his hand against hers. "There's nothing to apologise for, I'm the one… I pushed you away, I know I did, time and time again. I'm the one who broke the vows we made." Speaking those words made her feel self conscious about holding onto the ring he'd bought her, about the meaning of it, so she slipped it back into it's box.

"I hardly think that's fair. 'For better or worse' remember? I didn't do very well with that one; when it got tough, I walked away."

"I don't see it that way," she said softly. She was doing her damndest not to cry, not there, in a public place. "You were always so good to me, you still are…" she breathed deeply, trying to regulate the beat of her heart, to slow her thoughts and gather them into some kind of meaningful sentence. "I love you," she finally stated, "I never stopped."

At her words, the tension that had filled Charles since this whole conversation started began to recede, but a part of him still needed to hear her say it again. "You love me?" he asked, feeling a little like a child seeking confirmation.

She shook her head, feeling her eyes fill with tears, what a state she was in. "Of course I do. It wasn't so easy to stop. If anything, I kept waiting for it to happen. I thought at some point it would just ebb away, you know, or change, that I wouldn't feel it so strongly or miss you so much." She licked her lips, "I tried so hard to stop," she admitted.

"I know. I never stopped loving you either," he admitted. "Sometimes I wished I had. I thought if I could just stop loving you that maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. But I do still love you Els."

"I've missed that, you calling me that."

"I've missed calling you that. I shall endeavour to do it more often… if you're agreeable?"

His words brought on a slight giggle and she glanced at him almost shyly. "I do rather like it." She felt his fingers flex in hers, his thumb stroking her palm, she wondered if he's even aware he's doing it. Hearing words of love and affection from him again after all this time, caused the tears that had been threatening to fall since they started this conversation to spill down her face. "Oh god, what a mess," she snuffled. "What an absolute mess. I've convinced myself a thousand times over that you didn't love me anymore, that I'd hurt you once too often. Pushed you away one too many times…"

"Never," Charles whispered, squeezing her hand. "I've never gotten over you Els. If I had, I wouldn't have carried this around with me everyday for the past five years." He reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet, opening it to reveal a photo of the four of them during happier times and his wedding ring, tucked into the see-through panel. "Most people keep their driving license in there, but I keep you… us. Everytime I open it, I'm reminded of how perfect life can be... in the midst of all the rubbish that happens in the world… there's this, us, what we had together. What I hope we can still have."

"I forget how good you are with words." She smiled tearfully. "But you know," she reached to the silver chain that always hung around her neck, the discreet way it was hidden inside her clothes, and pulled it free, "I've never really taken mine off…"

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her wedding ring resting on the delicate chain. "How have I never seen that?"

"You know me, I'm good at hiding things."

"A woman of mystery, if ever there was one," Charles replied.

"Ha! Oh yes, I'm a closed book." For a while they sat in silence, letting their emotions settle, the words they'd shared turn over in their minds. She extracted her hand from his and reached to her handbag again, taking out a tissue for herself and one for Charles. "Embarrassing ourselves," she said, as she dabbed at her eyes. "I need to ask you something."

It felt as if butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach, leaving him feeling breathless, almost dizzy, as his brain mulled over the possible questions she may have. "Go on…" he said, trying to hide his nerves.

"I know how much you love our children, Charles, I have never doubted your absolute devotion to them." She paused, nervously folding the tissue in her hand. "I wonder, sometimes, is it just because of them?" She shrugged, tilting her head to one side as she finally looked to his face. "The way you feel for me, is it just because of them?"

"No." His answer was instant; there was no doubt in his mind. "Els, I have loved you since the day you rushed into that lecture hall, soaked to the skin, slipping and sliding everywhere."

"I hardly think I was coming in from a hurricane, Charles," she chuckled. "You make me out a Bronte heroine."

"Perhaps I exaggerated slightly," he grinned, feeling a little like a boy again. "But it doesn't matter really, because the point still stands. I love you now, just as much, if not more so than I did then. Yes, the fact that you had my children means that we have a bond like no other, but it's more than that, it always has been."

She touched his hand again, resting hers on top of his and stroking his knuckles before placing her other hand on his cheek and leaning up to kiss his mouth very gently, very tenderly. "If all this time we've never stopped loving each other," she whispered, caught up in her emotions, "then why… why couldn't we make it work back then? We tried so hard for so long." She squeezed his hand, desperate in a way for this to just work. "For two seemingly intelligent people we really cocked all of this up, didn't we?"

He took a sip of his coffee, needing the distraction to calm his thoughts. "We were both so young."

"I feel like a child when I look back now," she agreed. "I was nineteen when I met you, imagine Mae meeting somebody and falling so passionately for them as we did. It's not so far off."

"I know. We thought we knew it all though. We shouldn't be too hard on ourselves, Els. We thought love would be enough. But I realised something over the weekend. Love, however deep, on it's own is never enough. There needs to be communication and compromise, something I wasn't particularly good at. I need to change and I will."

Elsie raised an eyebrow, she didn't mean to be judgemental, it was purely an instinctive response, but he'd said similar things in the past, and the second she saw him take in her response she wished she could take it back. Everything felt so very temperamental and she didn't want to risk damaging an element of it.

He knew she wasn't sure whether to believe him and he couldn't blame her for that; he'd made promises in the past about his work commitments that he'd failed to keep. But it still stung a little, that she doubted him. "I know that given our history, this might all seem like meaningless platitudes - a good sales pitch to get you back - but it isn't…"

She quickly interrupted, "I didn't mean to seem doubtful…"

"No, I know. I don't blame you. But I do mean it," he said honestly, keenly aware of the warm weight of her hand in his. "I've asked Mary to become a partner in the firm," he plunged on, "and I've advertised for a junior accountant, so I can take a step back, reduce my workload, maybe even cut back on my hours. It will cost a bit, but we can afford it; and it's a small price to pay to make things work Els."

"Goodness, you've done all of that in the two days since the party?"

He nodded. "I was awake most of Saturday night, well Sunday morning really, just lying there trying to get my head around everything… to find a way to make it work. The advertisement should be in tomorrow's paper."

"You don't hang around with things, Charles, I always thought that."

"No point, not with things that are important. And nothing could be more important."

She nodded, the magnitude of his actions just sinking in.

"But, it has to work both ways," he said softly, terrified of damaging the very fragile bridges they'd just started to build.

She swallowed, she was very much aware of her part in all of this. "Did you hate me? Back then, I mean. When I went back to work full time, I felt like you hated me for it."

"I didn't hate you. I'll admit that I didn't really understand; we didn't need the extra income." He paused for a moment, knowing his next words would very possibly feed into the long held fears she had about her abilities as a mother. But, he decided, they had to be honest with each other, no matter how difficult it was. This was a fresh start, so they needed to hash out all that had gone before. "And I'd always imagined my children would have a childhood that was different to mine; where their mother was at home to greet them after a long day at school."

"I know that," she said sadly. "I know how you felt about that, even before we married - you made it very clear how difficult you found it growing up with absent parents." If he was brave enough to be brutally honest with her then she had to do the same. "But Charles, I never wanted our children to be coming home from school and not having anyone there, either one of us, not just me… do you understand that? I needed my own life outside of the home, just as you did, maybe that was too modern of me, I don't know…" she shrugged. "It didn't mean I would neglect their care in any way, I just thought… no, I needed for it to be balanced between us."

"It should have been," he conceded. It had taken him a long time to come to this conclusion; not wanting to admit he had been wrong, but when he'd become a 'single father', he realised, for perhaps the first time, how hard it must have been for her to balance her duties as a wife and mother with her work and the need to have a life outside all of that.

"I tried to understand," he continued. "When you agreed to keep Lil. I fully intended to be there more… but then everything happened with Robert and Cora and…" He sighed. "I never told you this because I didn't want you to worry, but the business was struggling then. I had to make a decision… to be there for my family or to provide for them. To me it seemed like an obvious choice."

"Perhaps… but then you always saw it as the man's role, don't tell me you didn't." She deliberately kept her voice soft, "I'm not saying this to be harsh Charles or hurt you, but if we're doing this, if we agree to do this, then we both need to be honest - it seems communication from either one of us hasn't been great. And we can't possibly dream of moving forward if we can't share everything. Even the things we worry might hurt the other."

She watched him nod very slightly, his mouth open, tongue wetting his lips. "I needed to know about the business, about our finances. Remember how embarrassing it was for me two years ago when my business was suffering, when I was stressed beyond belief and you found me crying in the office when you brought Mae home? Who was the one who helped me through that…?"

"Yes I should have told you, but I thought you had enough on your plate; two children under five, one who was teething and not sleeping. You were surviving on about three hours sleep; I didn't want to add to your stresses. I wanted to protect you; I vowed to protect you when we got married. It was probably very old fashioned and chauvinistic," he agreed, "but that was the way I was. Now, I'd like to think I view the world in a different way. I don't think I've ever told you how proud I was, the day you completed your first solo event. You were so thrilled that it had gone so well - you'd got several new clients from that alone if I remember - and I was happy for you and immeasurably proud that you, my wife, had achieved that."

"I knew," she said gently. "You may not have said it, but I knew, nevertheless."

"Nevertheless, I should have told you. I should have talked more about what I was feeling… but I wasn't brought up that way. Yes I can turn on the charm and pull out flowery, romantic words from time to time." Elsie smiled, he could certainly do that. "But to talk about what I really feel, deep down… the fears, worries, insecurities, it just wasn't done."

"Firstly, it wasn't just you who was bad at communication Charles. I kept a lot of what I was feeling to myself, until it all got too much and came out in blazing rows." She squeezed his hand in between both of hers, "But you must, you must talk to me, share it all with me. You're such a kind, warm man Charles, especially with our children. And I know why you shut things away, I know you never grew up being used to sharing how you feel but you must, with me."

"I will," he said sincerely. "If by some miracle, you agree to give us another chance, I will talk to you. I'll talk so much you'll be begging me to shut up."

She giggled, thankful to him for lightening the atmosphere but not in a way that made what had gone before seem trivial. "I think that if we decide, together, that we want to move forward and try 'us' again we need to agree to do so slowly. Both for the children's sake as much as ours."

"Slowly?" He mulled the word over. "I can do slowly. Date nights; I can pick you up and drop you off again like the perfect gentleman." He flashed her a smile. "No pressure. No demands… except that we talk to each other."

She smiled. "You always were the perfect gentleman, even when we were in the middle of the most horrendous row you were the perfect gentleman!"

"So?"

"So, I agree, date nights and the like. Just the two of us, separate to our time with the girls. And we take our time and see where it leads."

Charles smiled and leant forward, resting one hand on her shoulder, the other on the back of her chair as he moved in closer to her. "Thank you," he whispered. "I won't let you down. Not this time."

"I know. And we still have so much to say," she said earnestly. "I feel like we've just started…"

"We will talk through everything we need to. I promise. But this has been quite an emotional afternoon and I think I'd rather like to just enjoy this wondrous feeling for a while before we…" He paused, searching for the right words, he was so very aware of stepping carefully around this, not pushing, not holding back, just the right balance.

"...Before we wrangle with the more difficult areas?" She continued. "Before we thrash it all out?" There was humour in her voice and she pursed her lips together to hide her grin.

"You're teasing me."

"I am. But I agree. Let's just enjoy this, for today at least. Everything else will still be there tomorrow." She gazed up at him, eyes brimming with tears, and felt the familiar pull between them. She didn't hesitate, just let herself be drawn towards him and, as their lips touched she melted, the soft murmur of absolute pleasure coming from the back of her throat. She felt Charles smile at the sound, his hand coming up from her shoulder to rest gently against her cheek.

"That was nice," Elsie whispered against his lips as they reluctantly parted.

"It wasn't too fast?" he asked, wanting desperately to get things right; to not mess this up again.

She felt almost giddy, fighting the urge to kiss him again - she was the one who insisted on 'slowly' after all. "It was lovely, I've rather missed kissing you," she said playfully.

"Not as much as I've missed kissing you."

"Let's not turn this into a competition, darling"

"Oh, and I've missed that too. Both your sassy quickness…" he touched her hair, "and the endearment." He felt like wrapping her against him, smothering her with affection. But instead he merely kept his hands folded with hers, left his chair where he'd pushed it closer to hers, their knees pressed together.

They sat there for a while, hands clasped on the table, a feeling of hope building between them, when Elsie spotted a familiar red coat and matching hat out of the corner of her eye, as soon as she glanced up it disappeared around the corner. She shifted her head, scanning down the street and frowning.

"Els?" Charles questioned. "What's the matter?"

Her eyes narrowed and she stood to her feet. "Excuse me, dear, I won't be a moment. I just have to..." she trailed off as she turned towards the door.

Confused, he watched her exit the shop and walk past the window. He wondered what was going on and where she was going - she hadn't even put her coat on and it was freezing out.

His questions were answered a couple of minutes later when she marched back past the coffee shop window, a sheepish Mae and Lily in tow. He fought to keep his smile hidden; Elsie would not appreciate their nosiness, even if they did inherit it from her.

"Look who I found."

Charles glanced at the clock on the wall; he hadn't paid much attention to how long he and Elsie had been there, but if the girls were here it must have been later than he thought. So, he was rather surprised and confused when he saw what time it was. He looked at the girls sharply. "It's not even three o'clock. Shouldn't you still be at school?"

"It's called playing hooky, Charles." She turned to the girls, "And I want to know why. Right now!" Elsie's tone was firm and, not being as familiar with how to get out of trouble with her Mum as her older sister, Lily caved.

"We just wanted to know what was going on… if you two were back together?"

Charles softened at his daughter's obvious distress and the tears already filling her eyes - clearly she was terrified at the idea of being caught skipping school; it was understandable they would be confused after seeing their parents kiss when they'd been apart for so long. Elsie rolled her eyes as she noticed the annoyance fade from his face; they could always wrap him around their little finger.

"That's no excuse for skipping school," she told the girls, ever the disciplinarian.

"It's only PE," Mae defended. "And I refuse to run five miles cross country in this weather. It's bloody freezing."

"Mind your language," Charles reprimanded gently before turning to Lily. "And what lesson are you missing?"

"French," she mumbled. "But I'm not planning to go to France like ever, so it's fine." Charles noted something of Mae's tone in her words and wondered just how much her older sister had coached her.

"One lesson won't hurt." Mae offered, leaning against the third chair at the table, already contemplating what to have to drink.

Elsie ignored Mae's protests. "Where do your teachers think you are?"

"Dentist," they chorused.

"And I suppose you forged one of our signatures to pull this off?"

Lily nodded before Mae could stop her. She shook her head; great now they'd be getting done for fraud too!

"We did Dad's," Mae admitted, "his handwriting is terrible, easier to fake."

"Ever the plotters," commented Charles. "You're both too much like your Mum."

"That's not helping Charles. They've broken the rules."

Charles dug into his pocket and passed Mae a ten pound note from his wallet. "Go and get yourselves a hot drink," he told them. "But no cake… as a punishment."

"You're far too soft with them," Elsie chided, slipping back into her chair as the girls made their way to the counter.

"Maybe. But let's cut them a bit of slack, eh… just for a minute. Put yourself in their shoes. Their parents, who've been separated for five years, and who they probably only ever remember arguing when they were together, shared a very public kiss three days ago. Their thoughts and emotions must be all over the place."

"But they wanted this. Remember all the plotting?"

"That doesn't mean it won't have confused them, especially Lil. Let's just sit them down and talk, explain what we've agreed. Then we can decide on an appropriate punishment. Hmm?"

Elsie sighed. "You're probably right."

"Can I get that in writing?" he joked.

Elsie giggled despite herself and they were still smiling when the girls returned; Mae with an eggnog latte and Lily with a mocha.

"It's almost Christmas," Mae grinned.

"What makes you say that?" Elsie asked as she watched her eldest pull over a spare chair for her sister.

"Well, look, eggnog latte is back! This makes me happy." She sat down, ever confident in her abilities to win her parents over. "So this looks promising," she observed, getting straight to the point. "You're both smiling."

"Your father made a joke."

"He's not usually that funny," teased Mae, pulling a face at Charles, which he reciprocated. "But seriously, what's going on? Are you guys back together now or what?"

"Yeah, I mean we have a right to know, don't we?" added Lily, staring over the venti sized cup at them.

"What did you get her such a huge cup for?" Elsie asked Mae, handing Lily a napkin to tuck in her shirt. "It's like a bucket!" She sighed, holding Mae's wide-eyed gaze for a moment. "Yes, alright, I suppose you do," she agreed.

It would affect them, this decision she and Charles had made. She looked to Charles and he nodded for her to continue; she took a breath before speaking, hoping her words would be greeted with a positive response. "Your father and I have decided to give our relationship another go."

"Really?" / "Seriously?" the girls chorused at the same time.

Charles nodded. "We still love each other. We've always loved each other." He reached across to touch Elsie's hand again.

"That's brilliant," declared Mae.

"So, are Dad and I moving back in?" Lily asked enthusiastically.

"Not yet love," Charles replied and Lily's shoulders slumped

"Oh."

Elsie reached over the table for her hand. "Your father and I need to make sure it will work first, us being back together again."

"Are you saying you might split up again?" she asked worriedly. She hadn't considered that possibility. In her head when her and Mae's plotting had succeeded, it would be a fairy tale ending… a happy ever after.

"Nothing in life is certain Lil'," Charles explained gently. "But I hope not. We've talked and we both know we need to change for this relationship to be a success. The long term aim is for the four of us to live together again, to be a proper family, but your mum and I need to get to know each other again first. So we're going to take it slowly."

"How slowly?" Mae asked. Elsie gave her a look that she knew well; a look that meant she was bordering on impertinence. She shrugged. "Just wondering what sort of time scale we're looking at, that's all I mean, I'll be leaving for University in two years time and you two move at a glacial pace!"

"Yeah," Lily agreed. "Tortoises move faster."

Charles chuckled, ruffling Lily's hair. "We don't know yet, sweetie. But my plan is to wine and dine your mother and woo her to within an inch of her life!"

"Which I look forward to," Elsie replied with a smile.

"Can we come?" Lily asked brightly.

"That's hardly the point, stupid!" Mae said.

"Don't be mean Mae," Charles said. "You two can come along sometimes, on family days, but not date days."

"WIll you get mum roses, Daddy?" Lily asked, not minding when her Mother took away the half empty mug of hot chocolate, she didn't want her being sick in the car on the way home. "Like they do on television?"

"I might, she prefers daisies though."

"I do," she agreed, surprised that Charles remembered.

"Don't look so surprised. I'm hardly likely to forget… not with the disagreements you and my mother had over the wedding flowers."

"I prefer to think of them as discussions." At her children's questioning gazes, Elsie explained, "I wanted daisies in my wedding bouquet, but Granny thought they weren't… appropriate."

"Who won?" Lily asked.

"Mum did," Mae said proudly. "You've seen their wedding photos, remember. There were daisies."

"Oh yeah. So you'll buy her daisies then? And chocolates too? And nice perfume?" Lily was getting excited, a mixture of the adrenaline of cutting school, her parents reuniting and the sugar she'd just consumed.

"I will endeavour to use all the classic romantic cliches that I can."

"And, you won't hurt her again, will you Daddy?" Mae suddenly said seriously. It was perhaps the first time she'd really thought about that, and perhaps the first time either parent had truly realised just how mature Mae was now. She, much more than Lily, had witnessed so much of their break-up. She was older, she knew more, she understood more, and the constant arguing and then losing her dad (because in her eyes, that was what she'd seen happen) had hit her hard so she'd toughened up quickly.

"Lil," Charles said softly. "See at the counter there's 'Guess the teddy bear's name'?"

"Yeah." She nodded, straining to look at it.

"Well, here's three pounds. Go have a few guesses." The coffee shop was practically empty and he gestured to the young girl cleaning the table behind him. "You couldn't just help her place her guesses, could you?"

"Sure." The waitress smiled.

"Mae, honey," Elsie said softly, holding her hand. "I know how mature you are now, not a child anymore, not to us. But it's okay to be a bit scared of all this."

"I'm not scared," she shrugged.

"You do understand it wasn't just your father, don't you? That we both played a part?"

She shrugged again, stirring her spoon in the dregs of her coffee and avoiding their gaze. "I just know that when Dad left you cried every night, you thought I didn't know, but I did. I could hear you Mum."

Feeling the burn of tears cloud her eyes, Elsie blinked fiercely and wrapped her arm around her daughter, kissing her head. "I know baby, I know. And I know how much you missed your Father, and Lily."

"It was like, I'd done something wrong, you know, because I lost Dad too."

"Oh god," Charles swallowed the lump in his throat as he wrapped an arm around Mae's back, his arm covering Elsie's. "Never sweetheart, I'll always be here, whatever happens."

"And we weren't with your Dad," Elsie added. "We don't know whether he cried too, you mustn't think it was his fault."

"He was the one who left."

How simple it must have seemed to a ten year old to try and rationalise the whole thing, to explain it away by concluding that her Father had simply left them both. No wonder she was so hostile and distant with him for the first five months following the split.

"Mae-bae," he said softly, "leaving your mother was the hardest thing I've ever done, moving out of our home and starting somewhere else. But leaving you darling, that was the most painful, and I'm sorry I put you through that." He felt Elsie squeeze his hand. "That we put you through that."

"It wasn't good for any of us to stay in that situation though honey," Else said. "Neither your father and I were happy and the constant arguing was causing untold amounts of stress for you and Lil - you were having the most horrendous nightmares - and we couldn't carry on like that. We truly thought it was for the best."

Lily bounded back and Elsie quickly moved her chair, giving her youngest daughter access to the table. "Come here you," she said, pulling her onto her knee and tearfully kissing her face.

"Now, both of you need to know that we will never, ever, do anything to deliberately hurt either of you. Whatever happens between us, is nothing to do with you; you're both the most precious, important things in our lives. And if ever, at anytime, you want to talk about something then you just do it - don't feel embarrassed or nervous, you just say whatever you need to. Ask whatever you need to. Right?"

Lily nodded, curling her head against her mother's chest, the coarse material of her blazer scratching Elsie's chin.

Elsie smiled at Mae and then watched as Charles pulled her round and into an embrace, his eyes full of tears as he cradled her; she may have been going on sixteen, but she was still his baby, after all.

"Now, young ladies," Elsie finally said. "Despite how lovely this all is, we cannot escape the fact that you two lied to your teachers and skipped school. That's not acceptable behaviour."

"I'll do the ironing all week, Mum," Mae said, turning her face against her father's chest and sitting straight in her chair as she left his embrace, she wiped at her face, suddenly concerned the kids would be leaving school soon and passing through town.

"That's good," Elsie said.

"What can I do?" Lily asked. "You could take my new netball kit away?" she suggested sadly.

"You love that new skirt," Mae giggled. "Don't punish her mum, I made her do it."

Elsie appreciated Mae's honesty and nodded, "Alright. Maybe you could both help clean your father's house this weekend, to balance it a bit."

"I'll hoover!" Lily offered.

"That's not a punishment," Mae scoffed, "she loves that new Dyson thing he's got, it's dinky."

"Dad nearly broke the handle the first time he used it." Lily proudly proclaimed.

Elsie shook her head at him.

"It didn't look so small on Amazon. When it arrived I thought it was a piece of furniture for a doll's house."

The girls all laughed at him and he felt consumed by the warmth of family life, the simple joy it brought him.

"Yes, yes, laugh at Dad."

Mae shifted her hand across the table and turned the ring box that sat there, she recognised it immediately and for a second worried her Mum knew that secret too.

"What's this doing here?" she asked. "You're not returning it, are you Mum?"

"No honey, I'm not returning it." she said softly, holding Charles' gaze. "I was waiting for your Father to give it to me properly though, rather than just casually slipping it into the gift bag with my other things."

The girls shared a look with their father. "Yes, well… I didn't want to make too much out of it. Not when I wasn't really sure where we stood." He raised his eyebrows momentarily at the girls until they switched their focus back to their mother.

Elsie brought her hands from around Lily and rested them on the table. "I'm not quite sure where an eternity ring goes," she admitted.

"It's here, Mum," Lily chimed. "We googled it! It goes on your wedding finger between your wedding ring and your engagement ring, to show you'll be together forever."

"Alright then, well, that's awkward…" she said, glancing at Charles again for help.

"Maybe we can bend the rules slightly," he touched her right hand. "Maybe here? Until… well, just… for the moment?"

"I think that might work," Elsie agreed. "Do I have to put it on myself?" she prompted and she heard both Mae and Lily 'aww' at her words.

Mae nudged her father. "Go on, Dad," she urged.

Chuckling at the three expectant faces gazing at him he reached for the box, his large hands struggling a little with the small clasp as he popped it open, and took out the ring. "You three are far too beautiful," he said, "and far too quick for me."

He took hold of Elsie's hand, caressing her elegant fingers with his own before sliding the delicate silver band onto her finger. She wiggled her hand slightly, flashing the diamonds.

"Perfect fit," she said.

"What can I say? I have wonderful taste." he added, and Mae rolled her eyes at him. "So, maybe this calls for a bit of a celebration, despite it only being a Tuesday night, how do we feel about going somewhere special for dinner?"

"Yay!" Lily clapped.

"Not that Bistro place Gran took us to though, Dad," Mae pointed out. "She kept saying how 'special' it was and we got measly portions."

"And no marshmallows on the ice cream!" Lily added, as if this were the most shocking thing she'd ever encountered.

"Lord above!" Elsie exclaimed. "No marshmallows! What was Granny thinking taking you to such a wretched place?!"

"What about Delrio's," suggested Charles. "They do a gorgeous spaghetti bolognese - almost as good as mine - and I know for a fact that they serve their ice cream with marshmallows."

"Almost perfection," Elsie smiled. "What do you say, dinner out?"

The girls nodded in unison.

"I want to change out of this uniform though," Mae said.

"Well, it's not even four yet. Your father could ring and book a table for 6:30, we can nip home, you can change AND you can do your homework, the both of you."

"Aww Mum…" Mae complained. "Dad said it was a celebration!"

"No homework, no dinner," Charles added. "Do the hard work, then you get to celebrate."

"I'd forgotten how great it is to have you tag team me!" Mae said sarcastically, pushing her chair back and getting to her feet. But when they'd got their coats on and were leaving the coffee shop it was Mae who slid her hand into her Mother's, not caring anymore who might see her as they headed to the car park.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 - A Winter Walk**

* * *

 **24th September 1993**

Sitting beside her he suddenly felt like a gawky, gangly teenager again. It didn't matter that he was known as something of a lothario around campus. That he'd had girls queuing up to date him, that he'd snogged quite a few in bars following late night pub crawls. He knew he wasn't bad looking, and he had a way with words, his Granny used to tell him he could charm the bees from the trees.

He kept thinking of how delicate she looked beside him, her tiny wrist, her slender fingers twisting a pencil back and forth, round and round. She was nervous. He was shaking like a leaf.

In his mind he could hear the lyrics to one of his Dad's favourite songs: _Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you._ He felt overthrown. And she was only sitting beside him.

He turned his head, digging down for some ounce of strength, searching for the memory of that confident, often blasé young man he was but fifteen minutes ago.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hello." She said in response and he felt his stomach melt - Scottish, and her accent wrapped around him like a warm blanket on a snowy day. "I'm nervous about this class." She admitted.

"It's not too bad. Professor's okay. Some of the others seem to see it as a bit of a dossing class."

"Oh I'm very serious about it." She said earnestly.

He smiled, turning even more towards her, "What's your name?"

Her face scrunched up and she twisted her mouth, "It's old fashioned."

"So is mine. And boring."

He watched her eyes sparkle in amusement, "Now we've built it up too much."

"Charles." He shrugged. "Old and boring."

"Oh, I don't know." She held her hand towards him, "Elsie Hughes."

And that was how they met.

* * *

 **Saturday 5th December 2015**

Charles stood awkwardly in the hallway, hands in his pockets. When they'd arranged this outing, he'd suggested a walk, thinking the fresh air would be good and they'd have the space to talk about things. Only now it was bloody freezing and there was an inch of snow on the ground. _Typical!_

Leaning against the doorframe he folded his arms across his chest and watched as his two girls lazed in front of the television: Lily at one side of the sofa, Mae at the other, one of their bed quilts over their legs and the biscuit tin between them.

"Don't you two have plans today?" he asked.

"This." Mae replied, reached for another chocolate hobnob.

"Eating biscuits and watching television?"

"Eating biscuits, watching television AND drinking tea," Lilly corrected.

"Oh, I see." He smiled, he couldn't but think that their plan sounded better than his! "And what did you get up to last night?" It amused him no end that neither girl had taken their eyes from the television screen.

"Takeout food: I had sweet and sour, Mum had Thai green curry and Mae had chicken and black bean."

"We shared rice and chips," Mae pointed out. "And watched Practical Magic."

"Girly film?"

"Ace film," Lily said, lifting her mug to her mouth. She was wearing red fluffy socks and he watched as she wiggled her toes in them.

"And, do you really intend to just…"

"Dad, if you don't mind, it's Saturday Kitchen and James Martin is gorgeous," Mae said authoritatively.

Charles rolled his eyes, "I do apologise!"

* * *

Elsie stood before the bedroom mirror and pulled her hair back from her face; it was breezy out so it'd be in a mess if she didn't, but it was so cold out that if she tied it up her face might freeze. And she wasn't at all sure about her outfit - she'd grown so used to wearing work outfits (fitted suits and heels), that to see herself in waterproofs and a fleece was a little jarring. She didn't think she looked at all attractive; she had hips and boobs and when did those kind of outfits _ever_ look decent on someone with curves?

Deciding that she'd wear a hat to keep her ears warm she scooped her hair back and put a clip in, tucked the chain with her wedding ring on beneath her jumper and zipped up her fleece before heading down the stairs.

Charles was skulking about in the hallway looking lost and she stopped midway down the stairs - why hadn't the girls even informed her that he'd arrived? She paused, watching him glance at ornaments and photographs on the side, warming himself by the radiator. He looked very tall, and very handsome… and for some odd reason she felt _very_ nervous.

She felt her hand clutch the stair rail a little tighter as he turned and caught a glimpse of her.

Watching her descend the stairs, Charles wondered how on earth she managed to look so good in walking attire.

"Hello," he greeted, his eyes sweeping appreciatively over her.

She took the rest of the stairs down, a slow smile falling into place as she did so, "Hi." His eyes never left hers and as she paused on the bottom step she was just at the right height, level with him.

He stood before her, grinning like a fool as he lifted his head up and she tilted hers down and they both awkwardly - endearingly - leant in to kiss as the sounds of giggling could be heard behind them.

"Oh, so _something_ managed to take your attention away from the TV then?" Charles asked, turning to find the girls grinning at them.

"Something really amusing too," Mae said, pushing herself up on her elbows to watch them over the back of the sofa.

"Go on then," Lily encouraged. "Give her a kiss."

"It's only polite, Dad." Mae said.

Charles looked back at Elsie, who was smiling shyly. He leant in once more and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Let down Dad, you dodged that one."

"Watch your damned TV," Elsie teased, sliding her hands along his arms and slipping past him. "I'll just get my bag and coat and we can go."

Charles nodded and watched as she bustled about retrieving what she needed.

"Mae," Elsie called from the kitchen. "Come here a sec." Her eldest daughter did as she asked, sliding across the kitchen floor in her socks.

"Here, madame, what is your bidding?"

"I don't want you sitting in front of that television all day, right. If you could get your History essay out of the way I'd be happy. And no trying to grill bacon or anything - have a sandwich or soup - I'll sort dinner when I get home."

"Riiiight…"

"And here," she handed her a twenty pound note, "if you get your homework done this morning you could take Lil into town if you like, maybe see a film, have some lunch there instead."

Mae huffed, "Twenty quid for a bus, lunch AND the cinema?"

Elsie handed her another ten. "Not too much rubbish and stay safe." She kissed Mae's cheek.

"Thanks Mum," she said hugging her and whispering by her ear, "have a great time."

Walking back into the hallway, Elsie called to Lily. "We're going now!"

When there was no response, Charles poked his head round the living room door. As he suspected, Lily was still on the sofa. "Not coming to say goodbye then?"

"It's cold and I'm all snuggly in here."

Charles smiled and shook his head. "I think not, missy." With a childish growl, he quickly scooped her up from the sofa, quilt and all, burying his face against her stomach as she giggled.

"Dad!" she laughed, "Stop it, that makes me want to wee!"

Mae laughed as she jumped back onto the sofa, "Don't do it on my cover, kiddo!"

Charles deposited Lily back onto the sofa and kissed her cheek before leaning over Mae, "Give your old Dad a kiss."

"No way. You're gonna do something weird, like make it sloppy or blow a raspberry or something."

"Oh come on," he smacked his lips together. "You wouldn't want to upset me." He stuck his hands out, flexing his fingers. "Or else."

Mae was already squirming, "Noooo, you know I hate that."

"Oh, I know." He glanced at Lil, "get her!"

Lily dived forward as Charles attacked Mae's ribs with tickles. "No, no, no…." she pleaded.

Lily was pulling off her socks and tickling the bottom of her sister's feet and Mae's legs floundered about as she tried to kick her off.

Elsie watched the three of them descend into childish chaos - it warmed her heart to see them so happy, so comfortable with each other. She'd worried, when Charles and Lil had moved out, that their relationship with Mae would suffer. It was one of the reasons she'd forced herself to spend time with them - the four of them as a family. It had been hard those first few times, to push past the hurt and anger, but watching them now, she knew it had all been worth it.

All four of them were laughing hysterically by the time Charles and Lily finally gave up their attack.

"Kiss then?"

Mae relinquished and kissed his cheek. "Idiot."

"Love ya, though." He lifted the quilt up, laying it back over the pair of them. "Love you too, little Lil."

Elsie leant over the back of the sofa and kissed Lily's cheek. "You call me if you need anything, and be good, okay."

"You're going for a walk mum, not to space."

"You never know." She pulled on her gloves.

"Unless Dad is whisking you away for a weekend of passion!"

Elsie rolled her eyes. "Behave!" And followed Charles out of the door into the cold winter weather.

* * *

"So, where _are_ you talking me for this walk?" Elsie said, unwinding her scarf from her neck and throwing it into the back seat of the car.

"Newton Wood."

"Oh, I haven't been there in years. Remember that summer we took the girls, it was baking hot?"

"The time we had getting them up Roseberry Topping!"

"Remember how Mae moaned and moaned." She laughed. "And moaned and moaned again!"

"I remember carrying Lil on my shoulders for half the ascent. Think she did some permanent damage that day."

"She was only four. Her long legs dangling over your chest though."

"She was only four," Charles agreed. "And Mae only seven. What were we thinking?"

"We thought it was free and would kill a few hours to keep them entertained during the school holidays."

"How naive we were."

She shrugged, "Young parents. I guess you do lots of things to occupy your kids, we even considered camping, didn't we?"

"I think so. We 'dodged that one', as Mae would say."

"Indeed. Could you imagine how she'd be if a spider got into the tent?"

"It would have been 'Daddy to the rescue' as usual."

"I'll have you know I've had to capture quite a few of those things over the past few years. A screaming Mae dancing about on the bed and I'm there with my extra long dustpan trying to get it onto it."

Charles laughed at the image. "I bet between the two of you it was a right spectacle!"

"I'm glad it's a source of amusement for you."

"I just remember the fuss you made the first time we had a spider in the attic. You lived on a farm for goodness sake."

"And I hated the bloody things on there too, not to mention rats - those bloody things!" She visibly shuddered at the memory.

"I promise to protect you and the girls from the big, scary spiders in future."

She glanced sideways at him, wondering if he realised what he was saying. "Oh? Planning on moving in, are we? Or coming over in the middle of the night?"

"Well… erm… I thought… I didn't mean move in…" Charles blustered.

"It's okay. I'm only teasing." She sat back in her seat, folding her gloves in her lap. "Is there somewhere to have lunch here?"

"There's a pub; The King's Head Inn."

"Excellent. I hope they have something homemade and warming because it's going to be bloody freezing out there. I'll have a brandy."

"I'm sorry about the weather. Couldn't believe it when I looked out of the window this morning."

"It's hardly your fault, and I put a thick vest on, don't fret."

"You could have cancelled or we could have done something else." He knew it wasn't his fault that it had snowed, but he couldn't help but feel guilty for dragging her out in the cold.

"Oh but I'm looking forward to it, haven't had anyone to go walking with for a while. You know how Beryl abhors the outdoors, we just go to National Trust places for the cake."

"If you're sure? I don't mind turning round or just…" he shrugged, "spending the afternoon in the pub."

"I'm not dead yet Charles, I can manage a walk." She smiled. "So, how was your week?"

"It was alright," Charles said, changing gear. "Already had a couple of calls about the new job, so that's promising."

"Oh good." She folded her hands together, she felt decidedly guilty about all of this. "Mine was okay, bit awkward you know."

"With John?" Charles still wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, but Elsie had said it was mistake, a reaction to being hurt and in the end, she hadn't pursued John and was giving them another chance so he held onto that.

"So damned embarrassing. The man kissed me, for goodness sake, and now I'm passing his office and he's avoiding even looking at me. I feel like a teenager again!"

"He kissed you? You didn't tell me that!"

"Oh god," she groaned, covering her face momentarily. "Mortifying. I've gone five years - apart from our little… 'thing'… five years without anything and been fine and then the night you and I finally get our act together another man sticks his tongue down my throat!"

Charles gripped the steering wheel, trying to control his anger. It didn't seem to matter that it had been before they had reconnected - he knew this because he'd not let her out of his sight afterwards. He was beginning to understand Elsie's reaction when she had thought Alice had stayed over.

She briefly reached over and touched his hand, "If it makes you feel any better it was completely lacking in anything remotely passionate, for either of us. Hence the fact he now seems to be dating Anna. Also, awkward."

"Yes, it must be." Charles' voice was flat; lacking the jovial tone from a few moments previous, before she'd mentioned John's kiss.

She removed her hand from on top of his - _shit!_ _She'd already messed it up._ "I'm sorry. I've ruined the mood. I just wanted us to be completely honest about things."

Charles sighed. "I know. I just didn't realise that he'd… that you'd…"

"Well, it was hardly anything special. Lasted all of 3 seconds and it wasn't… well, it was hardly like when we first...in that pub."

"So, and forgive me, I know this is a ridiculous question, but…"

She smiled, indulgently. "No Charles, before you have to try and find the words, he didn't make my toes curl or my heart beat ten to the dozen."

"Good." His grip on the steering wheel relaxed a little, safe in the knowledge that only he could send her heart fluttering and make her toes curl. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It was unfair."

She laughed. "Don't worry. Did you kiss Alice? That's what I want to know? Did she make you moan into her mouth like you did to me that first time…?"

Charles was silent for a moment, reminiscing about their first kiss. He'd thought he was going to spontaneously combust when she'd moaned in his mouth. And her bringing it up now was stirring up similar feelings.

He was so lost in the memory of that night, he forgot she was waiting for an answer.

"Charles," she prompted, a half smile on her face, "did I lose you for a moment?"

He blushed. "Sorry. I was remembering a crowded bar, music blaring, being pressed up against this gorgeous girl."

It was her turn to blush, "We did rather pick our moment didn't we? Months of flirting only to finally give in there, in front of loads of drunken students."

"I couldn't resist you any longer," he admitted. "The thought of not seeing you for three whole weeks… I needed something to get me through the loneliness."

"And… Alice?" She asked tentatively, "Was that loneliness too?"

"I suppose it was, to a certain extent. When Robert introduced us, we'd just come home from Cornwall, I missed spending time with you."

She bit her lip; she'd missed him too, it had been nice this summer, they were good together, all four of them - they'd had fun, even the usual sisterly arguments between Mae and Lily had blown over quickly.

"And she was… a comfort?"

"Not in _that_ way, if that's what you're asking. We did kiss… once. She initiated it but I kissed back. It was nothing compared to kissing you though… she was nothing compared to you."

"I should bloody well hope not." She blurted out, then looked at him and laughed loudly, so much so her stomach shook with the force of it. "Oh god, I'm sorry, it just feels so good to be laughing with you again!"

Charles couldn't help but laugh too - her amusement was contagious. "I love your laugh," he admitted. "The promise of hearing it at the end of the day got me through those long training days in London. You'd always laugh at my stories of people on the train."

"That's because you do grumpy old man moaning about other grumpy old men so wonderfully." She reached for her coat as they pulled into the car park.

"Charming!"

* * *

Elsie dug her hands into her pockets, following behind Charles as they traipsed down the path and to the gate leading into the woods. She paused as he unhooked the bolt and eased the gate open, forcing it as it scraped through the snow, frozen solid from hours in the frosty air.

"Ladies first," Charles said, ever the gentleman, as he gestured through the gate.

"Thank you, kind sir," she passed him, slowing her step and waiting as he locked the gate and caught her up. "So…" she said leadingly. "What would you like to talk about?"

"I suppose we should start with what went wrong and how we drifted so far apart," he suggested.

"Okay, I can see that," she glanced at him, smirking, "start with the easy stuff."

"Best to grasp the nettle, as my Grandmother used to say." He smiled in return, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Fair enough." She sighed heavily, "okay." She paused again, striding forward and looking ahead at the icy landscape ahead of them as she mulled over what to say.. "Okay… so, I suppose the big thing that really screwed us up was my wanting to work - wasn't it?"

Looking out into the distance, along the path, Charles considered her words. He'd reflected on the causes of their split a few times over the past five years, wondering what had gone wrong or if there'd been a moment where he could definitively say he could have done something different, something to prevent their marriage from ending. It had taken him a while to realise, to see past his ego and through his wounded pride, that he should have been more supportive when Elsie had wanted to further her career.

"You had every right to want that for yourself. I see that now. I'm ashamed to say back then that I didn't."

"No, but, maybe…" she paused. "Maybe when we first married, or even before that, I didn't communicate that clearly enough to you. Perhaps we married too early, without really experiencing life, without really knowing what we wanted."

"I wanted you. That's all I knew at the time. It didn't occur to me that I might not be enough for you."

She turned slightly, halting his step, her eyes wide. "That was never the issue. You can't surely think that?"

"What I mean is, that I didn't think that life as a wife and a mother wouldn't be enough. Probably because I'm a man - I just assumed that women were made to enjoy all that… maternal instinct and all. Especially as, for the most part, you didn't need to work from a financial perspective. I suppose I thought you'd enjoy being a 'lady of leisure'."

She bit down on her lip, staring at him, head tilted to one side. "That was what my mother did - that was _all_ she did. Cook. Clean. _Mother._ " She huffed. "There's nothing wrong with that Charles, nothing at all, only it's not what _I_ wanted. What I want. And I don't want it for my daughters neither. I want them to have the same freedoms as every male they encounter does." She briefly rested her hand on his arm. "It doesn't mean I don't love them, or you, any the less. It just means…" she shrugged. "It makes me sound selfish, but I wanted more."

"It's not selfish." He covered her hand with his, preventing her from retreating. "When Lily first came to live with me, I took some time off, wanting to be there for her; take her to school, pick her up, but I was bored within a week. I'd never reflected - until that moment - on how it must have been for you."

"Well, I wasn't always bored. It can be quite entertaining watching Playbus you know! I hated the Dot Stop though, she freaked me out." She offered him a watery smile, her tone growing more serious. "Hard work, Charles, two girls under five and a husband who doesn't get in from work until after eight every night."

"Especially when he promised to be there but ended up working even more, I'm sure."

She pursed her lips together - _how could she respond to that?_ She turned, starting down the path again, only to slip on the ice as she took a step and toppled forward.

Charles was at her side instantly, reaching out to grab her upper arm to stop her from hitting the ground.

"Oh God," she caught on tight to his hand. "What a clumsy old bugger. And in these ugly walking boots; you wear ugly boots and they don't even do their job!"

Despite his concern, Charles couldn't help but smile at her mini-rant. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine, a moment of levity in a difficult conversation perhaps." She hooked her arm completely through his as they set off walking again.

"You were running away," he observed. "You didn't want to answer me."

"No. I was just giving myself thinking time." She squeezed his arm. "I understand why you felt the need to work so hard, as old fashioned as I think the view might be…" She kept her tone deliberately light, she didn't want to argue, merely discuss, gently teasing seemed the easiest way to broach the awkward topics.

"You make light of it and you shouldn't. I'm not naive Els. I know some things you have to say will be difficult for me to hear; I know I was wrong, that I hurt you. I don't expect to come out of this without a few bumps and bruises… metaphorically speaking of course."

She pulled her arm loose from his, wrapped it around herself instead and upped her pace. "I'm not sure what you expect me to say. And I certainly don't want to apportion blame Charles - this shouldn't be about who was right and who was wrong."

"I just want you to be honest. You say you understand my need to provide for you and the girls, but that's not addressing how it made you feel, how it contributed to the demise of our marriage."

"So what; am I supposed to hurt you by explaining that at times I _hated_ you? That by the end I was so weary by it all I gave up even trying? I was numbed by it all. I had no idea how I felt because I'd forgotten what it was to feel. I'd spent so long shutting down just so I could get through the day-to-day."

He felt crushed by her words, hearing that it had been so awful for her that she'd felt hate for him - knowing that he could have done something, should have done something, differently - but he pushed that aside, hindsight was a wonderful thing, but it wouldn't make any difference to this long-overdue conversation. "If it's the truth then yes. We didn't talk about it then, but we _must_ talk about it now if we're to make a go of this. I won't lie and say that my heart didn't just break a little, but I need to hear it and, more importantly, you need to say it."

In the past few minutes her pulse had quickened to such an extent that she could hardly breathe. Tears clouded her eyes and she turned away from him, looking out at the view, her back to him.

She felt him stand closer to her, his body offering some warmth and then the tentative touch of his hand against her shoulder, fingers curling into her jacket.

"I thought that you saw me as a failure."

Having never seen her that way, Charles was confused. "A failure? At what exactly?"

"For you. Because I couldn't do it. I wasn't a very good wife. I _certainly_ wasn't a very good mother." For once she was glad of the weather, the fact it was early December and that people had more to do on a Saturday than walk in the woods; they needed to be alone right now.

Charles used the hand that was on her shoulder to turn her around so she was facing him. Her gaze was cast downward, but his gloved hand cupped her face and raised her head. "I know we had our problems, but you didn't fail at being a wife anymore than I failed at being a husband, so we're quits on that one. As for being a mother… you were an amazing mother; you still are."

She felt her tears running down her face as much as she tried to hold it back, her breath tight in her throat as she listened to him.

"And before you try and argue with me, there are two beautiful, loving, clever, well-adjusted young girls who are a testament to that. I couldn't have asked for a better mother for my children Els. That's why I made you the photo album… to show you how wonderful a mother you are."

She snuffled, looked away from him again as she tried to hide her face, "I'm sorry. I wanted to have a nice day with you. Not cry on your shoulder."

Charles shook his head. "Don't apologise. We _need_ to talk about all this. The sooner we do, the sooner we can have more 'nice days'. Not that this one has been completely awful. I got to hold your hand for a bit, after all."

Another sob escaped her and she wiped furiously at her face, "So silly…" she licked her lips, tried to breathe. "I've missed you so much, you know, been so lonely without you. And now we seem to have made this step forward and I'm so scared - terrified - that we won't be able to make it work. That we'll fail again and it will be even worse because the hope will be totally gone then."

Charles gathered her into his arms, pulling her tight against him; the coolness of his coat a stark contrast to the warmth of her cheek. "I'm scared too," he admitted. "But the thought of not trying, of walking away again," he closed his eyes, "well, that scares me more."

She pressed her face against his coat, breathed in the scent of him. "I love you," she mumbled against the thick material, damp with the light snow fall.

"I love you too," he whispered.

For a few moments she closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation of being held by him, being close to him. Then she lifted her head up, looked up past his face to the sky, and felt the snow hit her eyelashes.

"When did it start to snow again?" she asked, voice still clouded with emotion.

"I'm not sure."

She felt his hand on her face, fingers tenderly brushing across her cheek, and she held his gaze then. "I want this to work, Charles, whatever it takes. I don't think I can be without you again."

"So do I. I told you on Tuesday I'd been thinking about how things could change to give us a better chance. And if it's not enough or it's too much, then you just tell me. Communication is the key."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to change to make this work, to make us work, that's not fair."

"I've already changed so much from the man I was five years ago, being a single father has seen to that. But, just like Lily was worth all the changes I made then, you… _we_... are worth the ones I'm making now. Having said that, if you want to change with me then that's good too."

She allowed herself a small smile at his words and felt nothing more compelling than to lean into him, slightly on her tiptoes as she moved her mouth to his. Softly at first. Just a gentle pressure of her lips against his...until she opened her mouth and he moaned his pleasure as he melted into her, arms enveloping her against him.

When they reluctantly parted she smiled at him, brushing her hand across his forehead and feeling the snowflakes melt against her palm.

"Should we walk back? Go get some lunch and talk some more in the warmth?"

He wanted to kiss her again, keep her to himself, never let go of her… but he nodded. "Good idea."

* * *

"What are you having?" Elsie asked, glancing momentarily over the top of her menu at him. Her glasses slid forward and she pushed them back with her index finger. "I'm thinking of this winter warmer - soup and one of these fancy sandwiches."

"Mmm, still thinking," Charles said, turning the page of his menu.

She put hers down, folded her hands on top of it and watched him. It was something of a joke between them - or had been - that he took forever to make a decision when choosing food, he'd always been the same. She could still see the young man in him, the boy she'd met at University, all floppy hair and gangly limbs, not quite sure where to put himself in group situations. His large feet sticking out of the end of the bed in the attic room.

She slid her glasses off and brushed her hand absently down her cheek. How simple things used to be, when they first met, it was all about love and fun, dancing and drinking and cramming in essays and making love.

"Our problems weren't new," she suddenly said, and he looked up quickly at her.

"Pardon?"

"I said, our problems weren't new - when we started arguing all the time. It wasn't to do with having the girls, or you not being at home, or my disappointment over my work… they were the same disagreements we'd always had."

"I don't understand."

She leant forward slightly, "Do you recall our first ever argument?"

"Vaguely. I know I said something stupid and you called me a…" he lowered his voice, so as not to be heard by any of the other patrons, "a twat. I seem to remember that making up was fun though."

She smirked, "I remember calling you that too. Though I still maintain you deserved it." She fiddled with her glasses, turning them over in her hand. "You wanted me to stop working at the hotel, The Grand, you remember? I thought you were making fun of me."

Charles looked down at his menu as he remembered, feeling ashamed. "Then I agree, I did deserve to be called… That. I just, misguidedly, wanted to provide for you. I suppose my problem has always been that I always viewed work as a financial thing; a way to make your money. It never occurred to me that normal people actually enjoyed their jobs. Yes, if you were some kind of rocket scientist figuring out how to get a tin can into space maybe, but not every day jobs. My parents worked long hours and what little time they spent at home they were complaining about work. I never realised people could enjoy it; get more out of it than money."

"I understand that. It was never that I didn't get that. But it just suddenly occurred to me that all of the things we fought over were nothing new, we'd had the same confrontations since the start. I worried you saw me as a lower class, that you had expectations of me and that maybe," she shrugged. "Maybe I'd chosen to ignore that, you know, in the beginning, to just brush it under the carpet and ignore what you so obviously wanted from a wife. From me."

"Maybe. Maybe we both did. Maybe I assumed you'd change your mind and decided, like I'd always assumed to be the case, that you didn't enjoy working."

"Did you… do you, not enjoy your work?" She suddenly felt embarrassed that she'd never asked him that before, never even considered it.

"Accountancy was never what I dreamt of doing when I was at school, you know that. But it seemed the best option for a good job. I just get on with it."

"Oh Charles," she suddenly felt very sad for him and reached across to rest a hand on his where it still clutched his menu. "I feel so terrible for you now, not only did your wife bail out of your marriage but you lost your home, living with your children, and stuck in a job that doesn't interest you. I feel an absolute bitch that I never even noticed that..."

She shut up quickly as a waiter appeared to take their orders, and reluctantly took her hand away from his.

"Are you ready to order?" The young man asked brightly.

Charles looked to Elsie who nodded. "Yes please," he said. "Could I have the Sirloin steak, well done, with chips."

The waiter turned to Elsie. "And for you madam?"

"Oh, could I have the winter warmer please, I'll have this vegetable and goat's cheese sandwich?" She smiled, holding her menu up to the young man. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome. Your meals shouldn't be too long."

Once the waiter was out of earshot Charles addressed Elsie's last point. "You weren't, you definitely aren't, a bitch. Perhaps you would have noticed if I'd brought it home but I tried not to. I didn't want you to know. I didn't want to taint our home life by being a miserable curmudgeon. Another example of when I should have communicated with you and I didn't."

"Or how we should have communicated with each other." She reached across to touch his fingers with hers again. "And I wouldn't have minded, you know, if you'd come home every now and then in a bad mood over work, if you'd been miserable and vented. You would have been my curmudgeon, that makes all the difference."

Charles turned his hand over under hers and laced their fingers together. "I do love you Elsie."

She felt her eyes fill with tears, again, "I love you too. I never stopped." She smiled bashfully. "I said that the other day, didn't I?"

"You did, but I don't mind hearing it again. I never stopped loving you either."

For a few moments they stayed like that, holding the warmth of their words between them. "Tell me about your work now. For all the times you didn't."

"It's long hours, high stress and not very exciting to boot. There's a bit of camaraderie in the office so that's pleasant enough," he reflected. "Gets us through the day."

"And yet, when Lily was born, you spent more hours there than with us." She said gently, she didn't intend to hurt him, merely to try and discover why. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"It was that or the business went under. I couldn't let that happen. The business had been in my family for three generations. Robert had made some poor investments. And I was left to sort it all out while he was grieving the loss of their unborn child. I don't begrudge him that, but the timing was just… well it could have been better."

"Why didn't you tell me? You never said a thing about it."

She watched as he shrugged his shoulders.

"My protective streak yet again, I'm afraid… I didn't want you to worry. We'd just bought the house-"

"Worry? I worried about where you were, why you didn't want to be with us - with me." She glanced at the ring on her finger, she was still getting used to the weight of it. "I thought perhaps you were finding somebody else more… welcoming."

"No! God no!" Charles dropped his head into his hands. "Oh what a fool… A blind, stupid fool."

"I think we can safely agree we both were," she got to her feet, reaching across to pull his arm so she could see his face. "Don't do that. I stopped trying, I know I did. I think I walked out on us long before we agreed to separate, and I'm sorry for that."

She lowered herself back to her seat, reaching for her glass of wine and taking a long needed drink. "We really put each other through it, didn't we?"

"And ourselves, I guess."

She nodded, "Maybe we should alter topic for a while. Before we're both quivering wrecks."

He nodded, "Yeah. Talk about the weather," he quipped.

"I rather like the snow, and being here, an old pub with a roaring fire. It's rather fitting. Gets me in the festive mood."

"It is quite cosy." He shook his head at himself. "God, listen to me. I'm turning into an old man."

She blushed momentarily as thoughts of finding out if they had bedrooms here fleetingly crossed her mind.

"What are you thinking about?" Charles asked.

"Nothing." She said quickly. "Well, what did you want to do? You told me that as a kid you'd wanted to be a sportsman, either Rugby or Rowing."

"I enjoyed sport, but my real passion was history. As a kid…" he hesitated. "I've never told anyone this before."

She smiled indulgently, "What? You know you can tell me anything, in fact I can't believe you've never told me this before - all that time we spent curled up in your bed at Uni, we shared loads of things." She blushed again. "I didn't mean like that!"

He chuckled. "If you say so. So, I never mentioned this because once I took accountancy, hell, once I took A-Level maths over history it wasn't going to happen and as nineteen year old trying to be cool and impress his girlfriend, it wasn't something I was keen to bring up. But as a kid… I dreamt of being an archaeologist of some kind… An Indiana Jones type, if you will." He blushed at his revelation. "I know it's probably quite a childish dream - and I'm sure like most jobs depicted on television or film, the reality would have been rather less exciting."

The image of Charles in a fedora hat filled her with joy, but she held back her smile, she didn't want him to feel embarrassed by his revelation.

"You're not laughing?" he said.

"Of course not. Remember when I told you that as a kid I thought I'd rather like to be the person who made all of Barbie's accessories - her camper van and the like. You laughed then… for days after!"

"I'm sorry. Feel free to take your revenge."

She shrugged, "We were naked when I told you and comparing childhood toy crazes."

"To be fair I did tell you about my Indiana Jones action figure… I just never told you why."

"I'm going to get you one of those hats for Christmas," she sat back, folding her arms across her stomach. "I rather like the image of you in one of those. Do you want a whip too?"

"Ooh, have I awakened some long buried Indiana Jones fantasy?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "If I'd have known about that, I'd have told you years ago."

"Ha, ha. I can't say I've ever entertained fantasies of Indiana Jones, in fact I thought archaeology was a made up job for the film when I was young." She giggled. "Besides, you know all of my fantasies."

"I've fulfilled quite a few as well, if I recall correctly."

She actually laughed out loud at that, covering her burning cheeks with her hands. "You're only doing that to try and embarrass me. I could say the same to you!" She said, pointing her finger at him.

"You could, and I didn't mean to embarrass you. Truly. The fact that you trusted me enough to share them with me, well…" he shrugged. "I wouldn't deliberately use them to embarrass you, that's all."

"I'm hardly embarrassed Charles." She spotted their waiter across the room returning with their food and laid her napkin out on her lap. "I wasn't even _that_ embarrassed when we were doing it up against the tree in the woods behind your mother's house that summer and your cousin stumbled upon us…"

"I think the fact that it was our first time following Mae's birth worked in our favour!"

"The bark rubbed my arse though," she said lowly just before the young man reached them.

"Sandwich and soup?"

"Mine," she said demurely.

"That'll make yours the steak and chips, then sir?"

"Absolutely," Charles said, still chuckling over her words and the mental image of them in those woods. He used to play in those woods as a kid, on his own, fighting the trees and pretending he was a soldier in the army. He'd never imagined that some twenty years later he'd find himself there with his gorgeous wife, her legs wrapped around his waist and them…

"Charles?" she said, her soup spoon paused in mid-air. "Are you alright?"

"Sorry, just… _thinking_." He turned his attention to his lunch, adding salt and a generous amount of pepper, something Elsie had never understood the need for.

"The girls will be well jel," she smiled, putting her spoon down and taking out her phone. She snapped a quick picture of their lunch and texted it to Mae. "HAVING LUNCH. WHAT ARE YOU TWO UP TO? XXX"

"I assume that means they'll be jealous? Is it from one of those reality shows you and the girls watch?" He shook his head. "I will never understand women, and I lived with three of them! Well, one and two little girls, but still."

"Don't tell me you feel emasculated?" she said, cutting her ciabatta into bite-sized pieces.

"Well, it would have been nice not to be as outnumbered. Not that I don't love the girls. I do and I wouldn't change them, but, " he paused, wondering if he should tell her. He decided he must; they were working on communication after all. "I thought about us having another baby… trying for a boy… before everything went sour."

Suddenly chewing her sandwich was no easy job. "Oh," she swallowed awkwardly and reached for her wine, taking another large gulp. "I never knew that. I never realised you'd thought of that."

"Well, I hadn't made an decision or anything… I was just going to talk to you about it when Lily was a bit older, but then we drifted apart so I didn't. It was always there though, in the back of my mind, for when things got better. Except they didn't."

Her face fell, she felt decidedly sad for him. "I'm sorry. So many things you wanted and I never even knew." She pushed her plate aside. "I didn't know you would've liked a son."

"I think every man would, deep down. Someone to pass on fatherly advice too; man to man." He suddenly felt guilty. He'd been blessed with two beautiful daughters, when some people can't have any children, and here he was talking about being disappointed at not having a son. 'Selfish,' he thought to himself. "But the girls… I adore them. You must know that. Dads and daughters have a special bond too… I just wondered what it would have been like with a boy."

"I can understand that." She swirled the dregs of her wine in her glass. "I'm sorry for that, you know." She sighed heavily, all these years he'd wasted on her. "You could've moved on. Married again. Had another child."

Charles would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. How could she not see? After everything they'd said since her birthday, how could she still not realise? "How could I when I was still in love with you? I told you at the party, it's always been you."

"Yes but," she breathed deeply, "you've been so unhappy, for so many years, and maybe… I sometimes think you and I met when we were so young, we thought we knew everything and yet we knew nothing… If we'd seen more of the world, met other people, had other relationships. There could have been somebody better for you. Someone to be what you wanted."

" _You_ were what I wanted; there wasn't anyone better for me. I wasn't unhappy when I was with you. I didn't enjoy my job, true, but I enjoyed coming home, spending time with you and the girls. My family. " He felt guilty then; it was his fault she felt like this, that she thought she wasn't enough. It had to be. "I'm only sorry I didn't show you how precious you were to me; how much I wanted you, our family. It doesn't matter how young we were or how many other relationships we'd had, or how far afield we'd travelled, I'd still only want you."

He pushed his empty plate aside, reaching across to grasp her hand.

"Don't you think if I had any intention of finding someone else I would've done that over the past five years. Elsie, walking out of our home with my suitcase was the hardest thing I've ever done. But you seemed so unhappy that I figured the longer I stayed the more unhappy you'd be."

"I was. I admit that." She said, stroking his hand with hers. "By the end my heart wasn't in it anymore. I felt dead. It took me these years apart to feel again, to find that I was still so very deeply in love with you, and I missed you so much. But it was too late. I'd pushed you away and I didn't know how to get it back, or if I even deserved to."

"You only ever had to ask. I thought, after our night together that we'd give it another shot but even then our communication was shocking; crossed wires all over the place. If I'd just been a little bit braver… if either of us had been… we've wasted so much time Els. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry." She chuckled. "We both keep apologising." She lifted his hand, exploring the shape of his fingers with hers before placing a kiss on the back of his hand. "Don't order dessert," she said.

"Oh?"

"Let's have hot chocolates back at the house later with the girls, maybe pick chocolate cake up on the way back."

"Good idea. I have somewhere else to take you first though."

"And where would that be?"

"That's for me to know. Don't worry, it's on our way through town, and there's a nice bakery I know of."

"Okay. I trust you." She kissed his hand again. "Can we agree no more heavy talk for today, my brain's rather exhausted by it?"

"Mine too. So we're okay?" He didn't mind giving the heavy talking a break for now, just as long as they were both comfortable with what they had talked about; that there were no loose ends that either of them were going to worry themselves to death thinking about.

"Of course. I think we've both gotten some things off of our chests, things that like you said earlier may be difficult to hear but we needed to say them. I don't have any doubts Charles, no regrets about deciding to do this. As I said, I missed you, painfully so."

"I missed you too. Even though I saw you most days. Probably saw you more often after we split up than I did while I was still at home."

She felt her eyes fill with moisture again and she really didn't want to cry in the pub, certainly not when the waiter would be returning at any time to clear their plates.

He shook his head, "but we said no more heavy talk so let me go and find the waiter, pay the bill and then we'll get out of here."

"Alright. But I'll buy the cake later."


	13. Chapter 13

_Time to live up to the rating..._

 _We pick up at the same point we left them in chapter 12, their first 'date' following the reconciliation_

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

They were quieter on the drive back, Charles turned on the radio and they listened to the presenter prattle on and the joyful festivity of Christmas songs filled the gaps in their conversation.

"So, we'll go to the girls' carol thing together? It'll be Mae's last one should she decide on college."

"We will and I hope she doesn't. I'd like her to stay and do A-levels there."

"Me too, but best let her reach that final decision herself." She glanced out of the window, shuffling in her seat. Outside was frosty but the car felt stuffy - Charles always did have the heating on high. She reached forward and turned down the dial and heard him chuckle lightly.

"Have you started your Christmas shopping?" She asked, a lightness to her voice.

"You may be surprised to hear this, but I'm nearly finished. Just a few bits left to get for the girls... and you."

She was surprised, astonished even. She actually turned in her seat to look at him, "You're finished?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"You? Mr. _I hate shopping more than I hate cleaning the toilet or emptying the bins_ Carson. You are done with your Christmas shopping?" She paused. "You didn't get it all off the Christmas aisle in Sainsbury's, did you?"

"Ha bloody ha. Did most of it online actually… getting quite good with that contraption now."

"Oh my god! You're continuing to astonish me! Aliens haven't taken over your body, have they?"

"I shall stop telling you these things," he replied.

She giggled at the tone in his voice, "Okay, I'm sorry." She briefly touched his arm. "Well done, I'm impressed. I still have loads of things to get for the girls… Mae saw this handbag she wanted, it's £189!"

Charles' jaw dropped. "£189?! For a bag?!"

"For a bag. Anyhow, I'm determined not to pay that, I've been trying to hunt it down cheaper elsewhere. She'll be heartbroken if it isn't there Christmas morning though."

"We spoil those two."

"I know. Do you ever think…? No, forget it."

"No, go on. Please."

"I was just thinking that maybe," she stared down at her folded hands, the symbolic ring on her finger. "Maybe we spoiled them even more following the break up. I know I probably let Lil get away with things because I felt so guilty about not seeing her every day."

"Perhaps. They're still good kids though. Lil' always got away with more - the perk of being the baby."

"I guess so. Did you get her those skate things she wanted, roller whatevers?"

"I did. They're red too."

"Her favourite colour."

He nodded, slowing down and indicating to turn right.

"I know this street…" Elsie said, sitting back and a grin crossing her face. "Are you?" She looked to him, took in his playful grin. "I don't believe you've done this."

"Thought you'd like it."

"I haven't been here for years and years."

"Me neither. Didn't want to face it alone."

He manoeuvred the car up to the kerb and pulled on the handbrake. "Shall we?"

"Of course," she nodded, "if we can."

He came around quickly to her side of the car, helping her out, waiting as she pulled her scarf around her neck, and then they stood back together and stared up at the imposing building.

"Our first home," she said softly.

"Yep." He glanced behind him. "Campus is about fifteen minutes walk that way, if I recall."

"Under ten if you're late and jogging."

He laughed, "Which was too often."

She pointed up at the window that stuck out slightly at the top, "That was our window, there, you could see clear across the city."

"We made love in that window sill on a few occasions."

"When it was dark and you could see the stars," she whispered, leaning her arm against his.

"A-ha."

"You think it's still for students?"

"Don't know, I'd be surprised if it's not, prime spot." He strode forward towards the steps. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To find out if it's still student digs."

"And then what?"

"If it is I'll slip the guy twenty quid and we'll go see our room."

"Charles, we can't do that, barge in."

"If they're anything like we were at that age he, or she, will be glad of the cash."

She sniggered at his boyish expression, "I'll feel bad."

"Don't." He rang the bell and reached back for her hand.

Ten minutes later they were making their way up an old, familiar staircase following a nineteen year old in sweatpants and a t-shirt covered in paint, or tippex, Elsie wasn't sure which.

"Thanks," Charles said, as the young lad opened the attic door for them. He slipped a twenty pound note into his hand. "We'll just pull the door closed when we're done, yes?"

"No bother to me, I tell you, my Dad owns it, letting me stay for a while. Nobody's had this room for years." The boy pulled open dusty curtains. "He wants to sell it really, cash flow issues, you know how it's been since the recession and all."

"Has there been much interest?" Charles asked.

"Nah, he's not even put it on the market. He nearly had a whatsit sale, private one, but that fell through. Since then it's just been empty."

The room was indeed starkly empty. No bed, no wardrobe, not even a carpet against the bare wooden floorboards. Elsie moved to the window, looking out over the icy city.

"Thank you for letting us up here," she said gently.

"You're welcome. So you lived here?" the boy asked, intrigued by the wistful look on Elsie's face.

"We did." Charles said, digging his hands into his pockets as he surveyed the room. "This was my room throughout Uni. Els moved in during my second year, and we stayed here until we got our own home, little new build."

"Nice."

"Mmm," Charles said, turning from the lad and moving to stand behind Elsie at the window, his arms dangling loosely at his sides now - he'd initially gone to naturally place his hands on her hips then thought better of it.

The boy watched them, "I'll leave you for a bit then?"

"Thanks." Charles said, glancing to him, "we'll only be ten minutes or so."

When they were alone, Charles stepped even closer to her, his chin almost resting on her shoulder.

"What do you think?" he asked gently.

She snuffled, closing her eyes momentarily.

"You okay?" he asked.

"A-ha," she reached up to wipe her face with the back of her hand. "Just a bit much, you know, today and being here in this room."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you today. Should have waited."

"No, I'm glad we're here, really." She turned to face him, so close their chests were touching. "So much happened in this room, we fell in love. Navigated what relationships were. And I know I wasn't technically a virgin," she smiled, glancing to where their bed once stood, "but I might as well have been… that Valentine's night...in here."

"I was no virgin either, but it was definitely the first time I'd made love." The girlfriends he'd slept with before Elsie had been nice enough, but there wasn't the spark there had been with her. He hadn't loved any of them, but he'd loved Elsie. He didn't know it at the time, but looking back, he could see he'd loved her since before they'd even kissed.

She blushed at his words, pressing her palm to his chest and sliding her other hand down his arm to hold his, interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently. "First time for a lot of things for me," she shuddered remembering her clumsy attempts at sex with an equally inexperienced and eager Joe. Rushing in her father's barn, the scratch of hay and the smell of rain. Being here in this room with him, lounging on his bed watching films and falling to sleep against his chest, that had been a far cry from her first time.

He began to step back from her to look around the room but she squeezed his hand again, holding it tight in hers. "Charles."

He turned back to face her. "Hmm?"

"You're my best friend. Do you know that?"

"I thought that was Beryl."

She smiled, "She's definitely my closest 'girl' friend, but you're my _best_ friend. You know me the best."

"Well, you're mine too. Or at least you were. I didn't just lose my wife when it ended, I lost my best friend too."

"I know. I missed sharing everything with you. It felt, odd, somehow, not to do that each and every day. Just normal stuff; dinner, moaning about what's on the TV, what the girls are doing at school. We'd been together since I was nineteen, to suddenly not have that… I don't think I ever really faced up to how bereft I was by it."

"I thought we'd agreed no more heavy stuff, hey?" he said gently, reaching to brush her fringe from her eyes.

"We did," she mumbled. "But I wanted to say that. I'm so glad you're back in my life. As my friend if nothing else." She squeezed his hand one more time before letting it go.

"I think you know I'm hoping to be more than just your friend Els."

"I know. But one of the great things about us was that was how we started, best friends."

"And we shall be that again. I promise. You can share whatever you want with me; call me at whatever time day or night just to tell me your latest event idea or just text me inane stuff like how you've had the commute from hell. I'll welcome any and all of it."

She looked into his eyes; she'd never trusted anyone the way she did him, never even come close to being anywhere near as intimate as they'd been over the years. She kissed his cheek.

Her lips lingered against his skin, a warming sensation that filled him with comfort. As she pulled away, he couldn't resist anymore and turned his head, capturing her lips with his. He'd been wanting to kiss her - properly kiss her - since the dance. The kisses they'd shared that night, and in Starbucks a few days after, were chaste pecks compared to the ones they'd shared in the past, behind closed doors; the way he wanted to kiss her now.

She audibly gasped as his lips touched hers, softly at first, as if seeking her permission. Their kisses so far had been polite, affectionate, promises of more. But there was something tangible in this room, something of a memory that seemed to wrap around them both and draw them together and she felt her heart beat properly for the first time in years.

She slid the hand that had rested on his chest, up to his neck and allowed herself to touch his skin, running her fingertips up and down from his hairline to his nape and back again like she used to. And the kiss deepened, his arm was strong around her, pressing their bodies together and she moaned again.

He traced her lips with his tongue, seeking permission - permission that she willingly gave, parting her lips and bringing her other arm to join the one already around his neck, pulling him into her.

It had been far too long since they'd done this. And yet, now they were doing it again, she wasn't sure it was such a great idea because she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop kissing him. He smelt so good, felt so good in her arms and his mouth on hers, as wonderful and tantalising as she remembered.

How did they do this to each other? How did they have this connection? It had always been there, since they met.

His hand moved to her hair and she slid hers down to his back, pressing her palms against his shoulder blades.

As the passion between them intensified Charles couldn't help but become aroused. It had been so long since he'd held her, kissed her, touched her like this, and it felt _so_ good. He could happily drown in her. His hand on her hip, drew her in closer, pressing their bodies tight together, eliciting a breathy groan from him at the contact.

There was no mistaking that familiar sound coming from the back of his throat, and there was certainly no mistaking the insistent bulge suddenly pressing against her - she actually felt for him, it had been so long since the pair of them had done anything even vaguely sexual with anyone, let alone each other, no wonder his body reacted so forcefully.

Still, she slipped her hands back around to his upper arms, slowing the kiss, deliberately shortening it until they paused, breathless, foreheads pressed together.

"Well," she whispered, "that was nice."

"It was more than 'nice'," he replied, catching his breath.

"Yes." She pulled back slightly, enough so she could look at him.

He gave her a sheepish smile, and momentarily glanced down between their bodies, "Sorry."

"I could see it as flattery." She said, feeling his hand enfold hers.

"You should. No one else has ever gotten that reaction from me from just a kiss."

She giggled, "Well, then I'm flattered, Mr Carson." She nudged his nose with hers, kissing him lightly again, already feeling drawn back into an embrace. "That might have to… wait...though." She said gently.

"Yes. We are supposed to be 'taking it slow'." They'd agreed that in the coffee shop the previous week.

"And I don't think the physical side of our relationship was a concern, somehow." She smiled.

"No. Definitely not. I promise to be the perfect gentleman from now on."

She glanced around the room again, reluctantly moving her body from his but keeping a tight hold of his hand. "I feel sorry for it, it needs to be loved again."

"It does. We loved it."

"We did. We had some wonderful times here, and some bloody awful times with Finn's music." She laughed. "And the state of the fridge!"

"Well, you did move into a house that had been lived in by three boys."

"God, I'd never do that again if you paid me!"

"I should bloody well hope not!"

She laughed again, "We best go. Go get the cake, have an afternoon in front of the fire with our daughters."

"Did Mae reply to your text? Are they home?"

"Their film finishes at 3:00. We can pick them up, save them getting the bus back."

Charles looked at his watch. "We'd better get a move on then. Traffic at this time will be a nightmare. Christmas shoppers everywhere."

"And how you love them." She leant up to kiss his cheek again. "Thank you for a lovely date Charles."

"You're more than welcome, Elsie."

* * *

 **Valentine's day - 1994**

It was Valentine's Night, and they had plans to go out for dinner, only he'd forgotten to book and they'd traipsed about between three restaurants and ended up in an overcrowded bar standing in the doorway hardly able to hear each other over the noise inside.

"Perhaps we should go elsewhere…" She suggested, standing on her tiptoes and shouting by his ear.

He shrugged, holding his hands up, "Where though?"

"Your place?" She said, "We could get food on the way back."

"We could, but Robert and Finn will be there."

"With their girlfriends?" She smiled, coyly. "Well, you know, the weather's pretty bad." She stomped her snow-covered toe cap against the step to emphasise her point. "We could retreat to your room, keep the food to ourselves, watch a movie. Maybe?" She felt oddly shy in front of him all-of-a-sudden.

The thought of having Elsie all to himself in his room gave Charles thoughts that he wasn't sure he had the right to. They'd only been dating two months after all; he didn't want to pressure her.

She shivered in her coat, digging her hands further down in her pockets. It was snowing again, and there was still a good four inches on the ground.

Seeing she was getting cold, Charles resolved that he would just have to control his baser urges. "Come on then," he said, taking her hand. "Chinese okay?"

"Can I have sweet and sour? Egg fried rice?"

"Of course," he agreed as they walked hand-in-hand along the snow-covered pavement. "It's my treat obviously… I feel awful about forgetting to book somewhere."

"Well, you did have a pretty important exam yesterday, I can let it go." She squeezed his hand in hers. "Let's get something for dessert too, something sweet from the corner shop."

"Something chocolatey?"

"Wonderful, and what shall we have to drink? Poor students that we are."

"I think I can stretch to a bottle of wine," he said.

"And you'll make me a pot of tea too?" She pressed her hip into his, "You know how wild I am."

"If you want tea, then tea you shall have. But don't play the innocent with me. I've seen you on a night out - you could drink me under the table!"

She chuckled as they paused to cross the street, "That's very true. But then I was brought up on a whisky, don't you know, the Scots put that in their baby bottles instead of milk. I thought that was common knowledge amongst you English folk."

He shook his head. "Until I met you I thought Scotland was just mountains and sheep."

"Ha bloody ha!" She jabbed him in the ribs. "And tartan and shortbread, I know. So what have you learned about it since meeting me?"

"That its women are bloody gorgeous."

She laughed again, "Some." She said, smugly, turning round by the entrance to the Chinese to smile at him under the blinking yellow light. "Some."

* * *

"You're sure this is what you want to watch?" Charles asked, as he turned the video over in his hands.

Elsie was wandering around his room, it was the first time she'd been up there, prior to tonight they'd always sat downstairs in the communal lounge - watching tv, playing cards with the other students. It felt a little odd to be in his room, his bedroom. She knew he had the attic, she didn't realise how spacious it would be, or how messy neither, it seemed he was a typical boy.

He'd raced up the stairs ahead of her, presumably to tidy away some of the clothes from the floor, and when she'd appeared through the door he'd been apologetic and red-faced.

"I like that film," she said, wandering to the window.

"Not too much of a boy's film?" He held the box up again, "Reservoir Dogs."

"It's a good film," she stared at him, "Unless you think boys and girls should watch different things?"

"Never dream of it."

"Good, set it up then." She still had her coat, hat and scarf on, it wasn't hot in his room but he'd turned the heating on when they'd got to the house. "You gonna fetch some plates, or dishes, before the food cools?" She stood on her tiptoes to look outside, the snow was coming down thick and heavy now and for the first time she wondered if he'd walk her back to the student accommodation later in the evening.

"Yeah, I'll erm… go and see if there's any clean plates." He blushed, knowing how clueless his words sounded. First his room looked like a pig-sty and now this - he wasn't making a great impression on the 'domestic' front.

"Thanks." She turned back from the window, shuffling her hands in her coat pockets, "it's really coming down out there."

He peered through the window over her shoulder. "We'll keep an eye on it. If it looks like it's getting ridiculous, you can always leave early." He pecked her cheek before heading off to the kitchen. "Back in a tick."

Whilst he was gone she did her best not to pry into his belongings, she didn't want to come across as some odd, nosey girlfriend - though they'd never officially stated that was what they were - boyfriend and girlfriend - she just assumed after two months of dating that was the case. And this their first Valentine's and she'd bought him a funny, quirky card and vouchers for the cinema. She thought it a bit dull now, but then who knew what to buy after only two months, she didn't want to be overly romantic.

There was only one chair in the room, at his desk, and it had a pair of shoes on it and three shirts hung over the back, so as awkward as it was she perched herself on the edge of his bed. It seemed relatively clean, maybe he'd recently washed the sheets, but it was made up well too, plenty of pillows stacked up and matching sheets and pillow cases.

Letting her handbag slip down her arm to the floor she folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to come back.

He returned to find her sat on the edge of his bed, still clad in her coat, hat and scarf. He smiled. "Are you not staying?" he asked cheekily, using one of his Grandmother's trademark phrases.

"Hmm?" She glanced over to him, handsome by the door. "Do you want me to…" he indicated her hat and she giggled, pressing her hand to her head. "Oh, right." She tugged off her hat. "Gotcha."

He smiled at her; she was cute when she was clearly nervous and it only seemed to make her more beautiful in her eyes, he wondered if he'd told her that yet - that she was beautiful? In fact he hadn't even made it clear he saw her as his girlfriend, he'd given her a card with it on but hers had only said 'Happy Valentines', they needed to clear that up right away.

"Let's eat, I'm starving." Elsie said, getting up from the bed and unbuttoning her coat. She took her chances and laid it over the back of the chair along with his shirts and began taking the trays from the plastic carrier on his desk.

He handed her a plate. "Here you go. Miraculously, Robert had washed up. Think it's cos Cora's here."

"Thanks, you get serving spoons?"

He pulled them from the back pocket of his jeans, along with cutlery. "Ta-da!" he announced theatrically.

"Cute," she took them from him and began sharing the rice between their plates. "Who's Cora, then? I haven't seen her around campus, have I?"

"Robert's latest girl. Exchange student, just arrived from America."

"Another girlfriend?! What happened to Jane?"

"Who knows?!"

"Goodness, he sure gets through them." She licked some sauce from her little finger. "You said you've had three girlfriends, right?" She asked gently.

He took the opening that she'd given him. "Four… with you." He stared resolutely at his plate, not daring to make eye-contact with her, should she find him completely ridiculous.

"With…?" She looked up at him, her breathing had suddenly deepened and she held her breath for a second. "You want to share the spring rolls and prawn toast?"

He looked up then. "That's it? That's all you've got to say?" he asked gently, before taking his share of spring rolls.

"Well," she licked her lips. "It seems that if we are boyfriend and girlfriend that would be the right thing to do. Share. Wouldn't it?" She offered him an impish smile.

He returned her smile. "Possibly, but then again, some girls would let their boyfriends have extra. Us men have to keep our strength up." He raised an eyebrow, challengingly.

"You are kidding, right?" She narrowed her eyes. "In all the time we've known each other have I ever come across as a girl to give up her food?"

"There's no right answer to that," Charles replied diplomatically, reaching for the wine.

She laughed loudly now, leaning in and kissing him on the mouth. "Pour the wine and let's have our dinner before it gets cold. Do we have napkins?"

"No. Sorry. There's kitchen roll downstairs though. Want me to grab some?"

"No worries," she dug around in her handbag and produced a pack of tissues and opened them up. "Always prepared."

Charles poured them both a glass of pinot, before popping the tape into the video player and rewinding it. "I wish people would rewind back to the beginning before returning videos they borrow!" he grumbled.

"As long as we don't have to watch the adverts, I'm happy."

* * *

One film finished, only half watched as they were talking so much, and then another put in its place - Charles went for a quiet classic this time, The Godfather, long enough he could keep her with him for most of the night, quiet and reflective enough that it created the soft, dark atmosphere he wanted.

Soon, he found they were lying on his bed, her on her back, him leaning over her, and finally time to really explore what it was like to kiss her.

He cupped her cheek with his hand as their mouths moved slowly, sensually against each other's. He nibbled gently on her lower lip, eliciting a soft groan from her. He pulled back slightly to look at her, gently reaching to brush her hair back out of her face.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her again.

This time the kiss was a bit more heated; the passion evident between them. Tongues fighting for dominance, hands roaming over each other, breathing quickening. He didn't want to put her off, to push it too far too fast, but he was becoming very aware of the tightening sensation in his groin and the need to touch her bare skin was overwhelming.

Elsie had no idea where this was leading, she wasn't at all sure she was ready to have sex with him. They hadn't even discussed it. And she wanted to try and explain to him first that she'd only had sex twice, both times a disaster, and with the same boy she'd been 'dating' since she was in Junior school. It had hurt both times. Lasted no longer than ten minutes and she'd been left feeling decidedly disappointed and oddly hollow at the experience. It wasn't one she was in a rush to repeat, if she was honest.

But then it had never felt like this with Joe. He'd never kissed her like Charles did, or touched her with the same reverence and feeling. He took his time, his body warm and firm at the same time, his fingers moving tenderly yet deftly across her body as he held her.

He whispered her name as his mouth moved down to her neck, and she found she was arching up to him, moving her leg, bending her knee. Then there was a crash and wallop and she sat up too quickly and butted her forehead against his.

"Ow, shit!" She gasped.

"Fuck!" He complained, reaching for the light switch.

On the carpet by the bed lay their discarded plates and some leftover sauce seeping into the pile. "Mum'll kill me, we paid a deposit, or something."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She scrambled to her knees, her head feeling strangely light and fuzzy as she looked down at the mess. "Go get a bowl of hot, soapy water and a sponge and a towel and we'll clean it out." She assured him.

* * *

As he rinsed the bowl out and washed their plates, he boiled the kettle, making her a mug of tea. She was right, it had come out, and she'd been very quick at getting it clean.

Carrying their mugs upstairs he noted a light under Robert's door as he passed and the distinct sounds of a girl moaning. Smirking, he carried on down the hall and up the second set of stairs to his room, there were benefits to being on the top floor - not when you needed the loo in the middle of the night, granted, but benefits nevertheless.

"Hey," he said, kicking open his bedroom door. "Oh, you're going?" She was halfway through buttoning up her coat.

"It's very late." She said, slipping her converse on and tying the laces.

"Yeah but, we were watching the film and I made tea - thought we could open that bag of Maltesers we got from the shop."

She pursed her lips together, "It's after eleven, Charles." But the truth was she didn't want to go, she'd already stopped fastening her shoes.

"I know but…" He trailed off, wondering if he'd pushed her too far before, when they were kissing. "Is this because we… we got a little carried away?"

"No, I…" she swallowed. "I'm not going to say I didn't like it," she blushed, feeling quite demure. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to… you know… we haven't really talked about it, and I know you did with your other girlfriends, I mean I'm assuming that you…" She was babbling down, making this worse. She huffed. "I guess, I could stay watch the rest of it, if you promise to walk me home, or pay for a taxi!"

Sensing that she was embarrassed, Charles decide to sidestep the issue of sex for now and focus on making her comfortable around him again. He put down the mugs of tea he was carrying and approached Elsie, unbuttoning her coat. "I promise."

"Such a gent," she'll never know what possessed her but she kissed the tip of his nose as he leant over her opening her coat up. "Oh god!" she blushed, covering her face.

"No one has ever done that before," he chuckled.

"Oh gawd…. that makes it worse." She flopped back on his bed, laughing. "Turn the film back on and the light off so I can hide my shame."

"Okay, but first…" he bent down and returned the gesture, kissing her on the nose too.

"That was cute too." She said, her voice low.

They were only another twenty odd minutes into the film before Charles realised Elsie was asleep beside him. She was curled on her side, her back to his chest, and he had his arm over her waist. She smelled wonderful, and was warm and soft in his arms.

For a moment he stared at her face, so peaceful in sleep, so innocent. Placing a kiss to her cheek he reached down and shifted his quilt out from beneath her legs, careful not to wake her, before covering her up. She couldn't have been comfortable in her jeans but he wasn't about to undress her.

Settling back down he curled against her, determined to get to the end of the film before he had to wake her and take her home.

Only things didn't turn out that way.

When the film did end and the video had rolled to the end of its tape it clicked itself off, and the screen was nothing but blackness, buzzing in the warm, silent room as the young couple slept wrapped in each other's arms on the bed.

* * *

Charles slept stiffly, conscious - even in sleep - of the woman sharing his bed. In contrast, Elsie shifted; slow, languid movements dictated by her dreams. She was drawn to the warm bulk of Charles's body and turned towards him, her leg slipping in between his thighs and her hand coming to rest on his chest.

The movement caused Elsie's jumper to rise slightly and Charles' hand made contact with the bare skin at her waist.

She mumbled in her sleep, leaning in to him, their height difference evident now as her head seemed to just fit beneath his chin. The steady beat of his heart lulled her and she slept again, content and comfortable in his arms.

When Charles began to wake a couple of hours later, it took him a moment to realise what had roused him; Elsie's hair on his face, tickling his nose. Not wanting to remove his hand from her skin - _when had it gotten under her jumper?_ \- he blew lightly on her hair, trying to get it off his face

Murmuring, Elsie moved slightly, there was something cool against her forehead, distracting her. She let her head fall back, let it rest on something warm and firm, and as sleep began to ease from her mind she realised it was Charles' arm.

She kept her eyes closed, she didn't want the moment to be interrupted. Her head was still heavy but she was becoming gradually aware of their position - wrapped up together under his quilt. The room was very dark and very still and she wondered, somewhere in the back of her mind, if it was still snowing, if they could be trapped here for days in this position.

Something in her chest ached and she nudged her head forward, her chin gently touching his.

In his sleepy state, Charles couldn't resist pecking her lightly on the lips when she brought her face close to his. He was going to pull back quickly, but Elsie kissed him back, softly, drawing him in for more.

Their kisses were light at first, barely even a whisper of a touch, as if they were both testing the waters, seeing how far they could take this before they embraced again and simply fell back to sleep.

Only that didn't happen.

The longer they kissed the more intense it became, mouths opening to the other, tongues meeting again, and that earlier passion returning, only this time stronger, more intense somehow in the darkness of the room.

She rolled onto her back, feeling the palm of his hand low on her belly; earlier she'd been nervous, now she longed for him to touch her, to see what it was like, to find out how much he wanted her.

His fingers twitched against her skin, eager to explore the contours of her body. Slowly, he slid his hand up over her belly button and then, taking her soft moan as permission, further until his fingers skimmed the cotton of her bra.

She jerked a little as the pads of his fingers found the edge of her bra; she knew what he was asking, and she was more than willing, but still being naked with him was nerve wracking nevertheless. She'd never been naked with Joe, never been naked in front of anyone before.

Biting her lip as his mouth moved deliciously over her neck she made a decision and reached down between them, finding the scrunched up edges of her jumper. She pushed it up over her ribcage and let it fall to the floor, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as she waited for him to do the same.

Even in the darkness he knew what she'd just done, the sound and movements unmistakable. He cursed the darkness; even the tiniest flicker of light would have done, would have meant he could see her. But, perhaps, the darkness would allow them to do things they would be too nervous to do in the daylight. He felt her hands flex on his shoulders and took the hint. Reluctantly removing his hand from her, and extracting his other arm from under her back, he began to unbutton his shirt.

She glanced up at him, trying her best to make out his movements in the dark, she'd seen him without his shirt before of course, when they'd gone swimming one weekend with friends. But this was different. This was purely for them.

Her pulse seemed to be pounding in her ears and she was glad she was lying down, otherwise she feared she might've passed out. He was making her dizzy.

Tentatively, she lifted her hand to his now bare chest, tracing her fingers down until he shuddered. She searched for his face, her eyes wide, making out his silhouette, the curve of his jaw, the lines of his shoulders.

And then his mouth was on hers again and she moaned his name into his mouth, overcome by the intensity of the kiss.

The sound of her moaning as he kissed her filled him with confidence and he cupped her breast, sweeping his thumb along the edge of the cup of her bra.

She moaned again, shifting beneath him - she didn't remember feeling like this before, like there was a buzzing in her brain and between her thighs. She wanted him desperately. Yet it was scary too, exciting but nerve Joe she'd known him since childhood, she'd known he'd never tell or treat her badly following sex. She'd only known Charles a few months, and though she trusted him, there was still that element of uncertainty, the unknown.

He pushed his leg further between her thighs, as his finger dipped underneath the cotton of her bra to stroke her nipple. She arched at the sensation, the movement causing her to grind lightly against his leg.

Her mind was screaming; _oh god, this was it, they were really going to do this_. And she wanted to. How she wanted to.

She longed to feel more of him, to make him feel as good as he was making her feel. Sliding her nails down his back she stroked up and down his spine, as far as she could reach. But he was so broad, and he seemed even bigger right now, she wondered if this was logistically going to work.

Deciding on another tactic, she slipped her hands under his arms, around his waist - she could hold him tighter now, press him against her, and there was no mistaking the very prominent erection pushing against her stomach.

She felt almost powerful.

She hooked her thumbs under the band of his jeans, hoping the movement would give him the green light to take this further.

He slid his arms around her back, dragging his nails up and down lightly, before his hands settled at the clasp on her bra. He hadn't had much experience unfastening bras before and prayed he wouldn't struggle. Thankfully, the universe was on his side because it opened on his first attempt. _Thank God!_

He peeled one of the cotton straps down her arm and she pushed herself up slightly from the mattress to assist him in removing it. His eager hands went straight to her bare breasts; stroking, squeezing and pinching her nipples lightly. When she arched, raising her chest, his mouth descended on her, kissing licking and sucking.

The sounds she was making were driving him wild. From what he'd heard, and seen, the few times he'd indulged in porn, he thought sex had to be a loud, noisy event with lots of screaming and the invoking of God's name, but the soft sounds Elsie was making were far more arousing than anything he'd heard before.

Nobody had ever done that to her before, and she'd always doubted whether paying attention to your breasts would really elicit such absolute pleasure. The few times she'd tried touching herself, in the shower, experimenting when she first became aware of boys' fascination with breasts, it hadn't made her feel much at all.

But this was as if somebody was sending electric currents through her body, like somehow her nipples were sending direct messages down her body and to that place between her legs where his knee pressed so deliciously against.

She wanted to touch him, longed to. Somehow, she managed to get one hand between their bodies; his belt buckle was digging against her belly, pressing into her pubic bone as he moved. She gasped as his tongue moved from one breast to the other, sliding a hand into his hair, tugging at the thick strands in a bid to keep him there. Her mind was racing as she tried to ease open his buckle with one hand trapped between them.

She hoped he didn't think her forward...

For a moment, when she slid her hand between them, he thought she was going to put it on his chest and push him away, chide him for moving too fast, tell him to stop. But then he felt the delicious weight of her hand on his belt.

As he reached down to help her unbuckle it, passion clouded his brain, and it took them a couple of attempts to coordinate themselves to get it unfastened.

When his buckle was open she worked on the button and zip of his fly, as he skimmed the waistband of her jeans, testing the waters, seeing how far she was willing to take this this. He hovered over the button, tweaking it slightly, and when he felt her nod against his chest, he knew where this night was heading. _We're really going to do this. We're going to have sex! I'm going to get to sleep with this amazingly sexy being!_ Slowly, he undid the button and lowered her zip.

He moaned as her hand nervously moved into his open jeans and over his boxers, her palm sliding across the bulge trapped - painfully now - in his underwear. The guttural sound he made must have startled her because she pulled her hand back, as if she'd been burnt.

Her mouth was open, breathing deeply, and he pressed his forehead against hers, hoping to silently communicate his need. He moved his hips a little, hoping to encourage her, and then he gasped and closed his eyes as she closed her warm hand around him, feeling him through the material of his boxers.

It had been months since anyone but himself had touched there and her touch was so different to his own; softer, more reserved, tentative even. It was exhilarating too; the touch of someone new, someone who was discovering for the first time what you like, what makes you feel good.

It had never occurred to Elsie that she could be so attracted to someone, to a man, she never had before, not in her entire nineteen years. And even more than attraction, that she could get on with somebody so well - they're friendship had been almost instantaneous, from the moment he'd made her laugh in that first lecture.

Hard to believe they were here now. In the early hours of the morning on the cusp of making love. Was it odd that she still felt almost virginal? That she feared it would hurt as it had before?

His mouth was by her ear now, kissing, licking; the heat of his breath, the sounds he was making as she held his erection in her hand, were driving her to the edge of something.

His hips seemed to be moving of their own accord and for long seconds they remained in that position until he couldn't stand it any longer and feared he'd embarrass himself right there in her hand.

Moving down her body again, his mouth found her breasts and the new position meant she couldn't reach between his legs, giving him a moment or two to calm down a little. He focussed instead on the removal of the rest of her clothes.

His hands slid inside her open jeans, ghosting over her knickers. He could feel the heat of her through the thin cotton and she moaned as he pressed his hand against her.

Instinctively, she grasped hard on his shoulders, causing him to still against her. But then she was moving her legs, pushing down her jeans and kicking them out of the bed - if she did it quickly maybe it wouldn't be too awkward or embarrassing. Though there was still the matter of her thick, winter socks, which seemed decidedly unsexy when she thought about it.

Her jeans out of the way, his hands were free to explore. He swept them down the outside of her thighs to her knees, and then back up the insides, teasing the elastic of her knickers where they covered her. He repeated his actions three times, slowly - agonisingly for her - but when he reached the elastic that third time, his finger dipped underneath, touching her properly for the first time, sliding against her slick, warm heat.

"Oh GOD!" She gasped, and it was the first time she uttered any form of language since this entire thing had begun.

She bit her lip hard, almost ashamed at the outburst, and for a second his hand had stilled against her - she could sense him looking up at her and she closed her eyes to avoid any form of embarrassment. She wanted him to do this. She wanted _them_ to do this.

Pressing her body down until she felt his hand against her again she almost melted into the bed, and she couldn't help the groans that seemed to come from the back of her throat.

There was this nagging in her mind that she needed to return the favour, make him feel as good as he was making her feel right now, but God she couldn't move, didn't want to, as selfish as it was she wanted this to go on forever.

Dragging the heel of her foot up the back of his leg she realised he was still actually wearing his jeans - yet she was almost totally naked!

She dug her elbows into the mattress, pushing herself forward, and he moved with her, kneeling between her legs - eager to see what her intentions were. Finding his mouth with hers they kissed fervently, so heady in their desire for the other it was becoming overwhelming.

She pushed at his jeans with her hands, tugging them down over his gorgeous bottom and helping him shift and move so they could get them off. She watched almost amused as he struggled with his socks, but pushed her own off too - suddenly, she didn't feel quite so shy, all she felt was desire and want and need.

Once she'd settled back against the mattress, he toyed with the waistband of her knickers, stroking the skin the there, and running his fingers over it. Their underwear was the final barrier between them, once gone, he knew there'd be no going back. He needed to be certain that this was what she wanted.

Grasping the elastic with his fingers, he whispered, "Els… I…. are you sure?" His voice was low and gravelly, having not spoken since this whole thing started.

It was surprising to hear his voice, so calm yet laden with his want. And the use of the nickname he seemed to have fixed her with at a time like this only increased her absolute certainty that this was exactly what she wanted.

"Yes," she whispered, her throat dry, voice barely audible. "Yes," she said again, more firmly, and then she drew her hands up his arms, sliding them into his hair and pulling his face down to hers - she couldn't seem to get enough of kissing him like this.

When her hands released him, she raised her hips off the mattress and he slowly pulled her knickers down. She tugged eagerly at the waistband of his boxers in response, so he obliged, pushing them down over his hips and kicking them off, before returning to his previous position, hovering above her.

Elsie lifted her hand up to his shoulder, her eyes fully adjusted to the light now, she could make out his face, the wide, dark eyes as he gazed at her. She watched as her fingers made contact with his shoulder, felt his skin warm beneath her fingertips as she stroked down his arm and back up again. Her other hand was placed over his wrist and she held on to him, as if she was going to somehow fall away, float away, out of his embrace.

He lowered his face to hers, his mouth seeking hers in the dimness of the room, he was shivering, which surprised her, because the room was warm in the early hours of the morning - somebody had forgotten to turn the heating off. When she parted her legs slightly he easily fell between them and she gasped into his mouth at the contact - his erection pressing firmly against her - she'd never really given much thought to the differences in size and shape of men's genitalia, but God he felt different to Joe.

The tingling sensation that had looped about her stomach for the past twenty minutes suddenly intensified and she actually rolled her hips upwards as it dove lower.

He gasped; the movement of her hips had caused them to be even closer than before, so close that he knew that one more slight movement could cause him to slip inside her. He froze for a moment, praying that she would remain still too, before reaching across and opening the drawer of his bedside cabinet.

Her heart seemed to leap into her throat at the realisation of what he was doing, and the sound of him fumbling about in the darkness was almost agonising. She felt oddly detached as she lay there waiting, her hands still on his arms, her body naked before him. There was something heavy in her chest, and the thought of what it might be scared her a little. She might have been an independent young woman taking on university in a new city on her own - but she was still only nineteen and Charles was still only the first proper boyfriend she'd had.

She knew he'd had at least three 'serious' girlfriends, he'd told her a much before they'd even started dating - in fact he'd even told her that he'd broken up with the last one - Jessica - only that summer before she'd come to York. He'd confided in her as one might a friend. And she'd pretty much guessed that by 'serious' he meant 'sex'. _What if she wasn't as good?_ She had little experience at this and she couldn't bear to be a disappointment.

Charles almost cheered when he finally managed to lay his hand on the box of condoms he knew he'd put in the drawer when he'd moved into the attic back in September at the start of his second year. He'd been single at the time, but his father had made him promise when he'd turned 16 that he would never be unprepared should he find himself in a sexual situation. And, not wanting to become a father himself just yet, it was a promise that had been easy to keep. _Thank God I did._ He couldn't imagine getting this far, this close and not being able to go through with it due to a lack of protection.

Closing the drawer, he turned back to Elsie, a triumphant smile on his face, a foil packet held between his thumb and forefinger.

She actually laughed at his expression, a low, almost whispered sound. But it lightened the mood. Taking the plunge, she slid her hand up his arm to where the packet shone in the dark, and gently tore it open - it would seem odd to talk now, when they'd been silent for so long, as if the mood would be broken; she hoped this movement would be enough to show her consent was readily given.

With trembling hands, he rolled the condom over his erection and then lowered himself onto her, positioning himself at her entrance. She gasped and it struck him for the first time that he didn't know for definite if she'd done this before - she'd been right earlier when she said they hadn't really talked about it. She'd hinted at possibly having some experience, but he didn't know how much, if any. It was something he should have asked, but it didn't seem right to do it now; to spoil the moment by bringing up their exes. So he resolved to go slow, take his time just in case.

His face was close to hers, his breath hot on her skin, and his arms on the pillow by her head as he supported himself. She shifted her bottom, bent her legs at the knees as they found a comfortable position. Nobody ever focussed on things like this in the movies, in Hollywood it was all make-believe loveliness, nobody ever focussed on the mechanics of it, the awkwardness as bodies found a way to fit together.

Still, there was something terribly sweet about it. He was clearly taking his time; she knew men and their desires - she'd grown up on a farm with male farm hands after all - and she also knew Charles had gone since July the previous year without sex, so holding back now can't have been easy.

"You're sure?" He whispered again, eager to make sure she wanted this just as much as he did.

"Very," she murmured in return, her mouth seeking his.

They kissed for a long time and she felt him press insistently against her, but he seemed to be waiting for her, for some kind of permission. Deciding that simply going for it was the best option she slid her hand down his back, squeezed his bottom for a moment before slipping her hand between them and grasping hold of his erection. He felt very big, very warm, almost silky to touch - what a strange sensation it brought.

And so together they negotiated the final boundary until he swam with pleasure and exhaled his joy by her ear and she gasped, shuddered, nails digging into his shoulders as the tightness of it all hit her.

She quickly closed her eyes, it still hurt, and she'd so hoped it would be different.

"Ahhh…" she gulped, panting.

Although highly aroused, Charles still had enough presence of mind to realise that her cry was one of pain, not pleasure. "Shall I stop?"

"No, just…" she breathed deeply, "just...slowly…"

He stilled for a moment to allow her to time to adjust to the fullness, sliding his hand in between their bodies to touch her.

This time when she gasped it was more out of pleasure than the uncomfortable joining, and as his thumb worked across the sensitive spot she found him slipping more easily inside her, moaning her name as he did so.

She wasn't sure if to have her eyes open or closed. It seemed odd to close them when it was so dark in the room, but then every movement sent some new sensation through her body and she found them closing of their own accord.

Gently, Charles moved - pulling out a little - and she let out a delighted gasp. It was a sound he wanted to hear again, so he thrust back in, careful not to hurt her. As he did, her hands slid down his back and found his bottom, pulling him closer to her.

He couldn't recall ever being like this before - steady, gentle, their bodies almost rocking together. Usually, his hips took over and he let himself go, but then he'd never been with Elsie Hughes before. He'd never made love before. And he was pretty sure this was what making love should feel like.

The tightness in Elsie's belly seemed to be growing, low and deep as she felt him move. Joe had felt heavy on top of her, almost intrusive; Charles felt heavenly. She arched her back slightly, testing how it changed the angle, the pleasure. And when she rolled her hips beneath him, her body in time with his, she'd never heard such a delighted sound come from another person.

They had found their rhythm; soft and tender, the movement of their bodies synchronised to create the most amazing feelings. He lowered his lips to her neck, kissing up to her ear and nibbling lightly. "You feel so good!" he breathed.

His words, incredibly, sent yet more waves of pleasure rolling through her. Her nails grasped at his shoulder, "You do too," she mumbled, throat tight, voice laden with desire. Her mind was hazy, almost clouded by her want for him, and the sharpness of earlier was gone, replaced by something sweet and intense.

She'd never felt forward in bed before - not that she'd even been 'in bed' with a man but still - but now she allowed herself to simply enjoy it, Charles clearly had few inhibitions and from the sounds he was making he was enjoying this to the point of delirium. Shifting her legs she hooked one foot up and over the back of his legs, driving him deeper inside her.

"Charles…" Her mouth sought his skin, kissing where she could - his neck, chin, until she found his lips again and they kissed deeply, passionately.

The tempo and intensity of their thrusts increased as their pleasure heightened. He felt his release creeping up on him, that familiar tingle in his groin. He was close, but he wanted - no, he needed this to be good for her too. His hand found her breast and he kneaded gently, rolling her nipple between his fingers as he thrust deeper inside her.

"Oh god!" She found herself almost yelling into their kiss, her other leg joining the first one and wrapping around him. Whatever had happened with sex before it wasn't this, nothing had ever felt like this. She gripped his shoulders, holding tight to him; his thrusts too powerful for her to return now, her body too far gone.

There was a delicious heat, somehow raw and primal, yet tender and soothing at the same time. A wonderful tingling sensation that was somehow gathered behind her knees and spread down her legs until she was shaking, panting.

"Oh God…" she gasped again, throwing her head back, one hand pressing against the coolness of the wall above her head. "Yes. Please, Charles…" she wasn't even sure what she was begging for, but she knew she didn't want him to stop, not yet, not until...

Her breathy words brought Charles even closer to the edge - something he hadn't thought possible - and he grasped her hips, rising up slightly as his thrusts became sharper, his hips snapping against hers. "Oh God, Els! Oh fu…"

Words were no longer present. Her brain was focussed on only the place where their bodies joined and how wonderful it was. One of his hands trailed down over her stomach, reaching between them, touching her, and that was it - somehow something inside her tripped and rolled, and there was a powerful rush and tightening and then nothing but a black sky and transcendent stars.

Goosebumps on her skin and shuddering breaths and her legs tight then loose around him. Light and free and flying.

Her climax brought on his own and his hands fly back to her hips and he holds himself tight against her as he comes; pleasure coursing through him. He almost collapsed on top of her with the force of his orgasm, but somehow managed not to squash her as he brought his face down to hers and kissed her lovingly. "That was… amazing," he said, as he tried to catch his breath.

She heard his words as if they were in some other time and place. It seemed to take an age for the buzzing in her ears to cease, and her body hardly felt like her own anymore. He was still inside her, his mouth on her neck, different in how he kissed her now - loving, tender, as the passion settled between them.

Sleeping against him seemed a wonderful idea, wrapped in his arms, and yet she wanted to talk, to share, locked as they were in this magical night, almost alone but for the falling snow.

Pushing on his left shoulder she turned her head to look at him, offered him a soft smile, her eyes wide and bright in the dark. "I…" she tried to say, but her throat was dry, and besides, she didn't know what to say.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stroking his hand down her arm.

"Yes," she mumbled. "Thirsty. Maybe." She felt like she was blushing, her face was so warm. His body sticky against hers.

He pushed himself up, somewhat reluctantly - not wanting to let her go - and got out of bed, padding across the room and pulling on the towelling dressing gown that hung on the back of his door. "I'll get us some water."

She sat up too, grasping the bedsheets to her chest, her hair falling about her face. "Can I use the bathroom?"

"Of course." He looked around the room and his eyes fell on the shirt he'd been wearing earlier. He picked it up and handed it to her. "I don't think you're likely to bump into anyone in the hall but…" he shrugged. "I'll just dive in their first if that's okay? While you're getting… dressed."

She nodded; it wasn't that it was awkward between them now, it was just that the whole business of cleaning up after sex was an odd thing considering the emotions that were still coursing through her body.

She waited until she heard him open the bathroom door on the floor below before tiptoeing out of bed - a warm dampness between her thighs, she felt her cheeks redden at the thought and oddly thought of her mother and how she'd view all this.

Shaking it aside she pulled his shirt over her head, it wa big enough on her that it fell below her bottom and covered enough for her to forgo underwear.

When she returned from cleaning up Charles was already back in bed, he'd lit a candle on his desk and she wondered where he'd found it from, and also how it was now there was more light in the room, light enough for him to see everything.

"That's yours," he said, indicating the glass, and she took hold of it and drank it half down in one long gulp.

He was smiling at her, grinning, when she put the glass back down. She'd pulled her hair up in the bathroom - it was mussed and untidy - and looped it in a bobble out of her face.

"It's cold out there," he stated, and she started for the bed, stopped when her knees hit the edge of the mattress and pausing to lift the shirt up over her head and drop it back to the floor, before joining him beneath the duvet.

Seeing her completely naked for the first time takes his breath away. The shadowplay of candlelight across her skin accentuated the curves of her breasts and hips. He hadn't thought he could ever think her more beautiful than the first time he'd seen her, but he'd been wrong. She was stunning.

He lifted his arm as she climbed in; an invitation for her to cuddle up against him. She obliged, lying next to him, her head on his chest and her leg thrown over his. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, anchoring her to him, and placed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"Mmmm," she sighed, reveling in the closeness and snuggling in tighter.

"So…" he began, a little unsure how to broach the question that was currently burning a hole in his brain. "You've never… I mean…. That's never happened before, for you, has it?"

She chewed on her bottom lip, lifting her face shyly to his and giving the slightest shake of her head. "No." She somehow felt like that made her stupid.

His arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer. "Oh sweetheart, don't be embarrassed. Please."

"It's just, you know…" She switched onto her side, facing him, glad when he shuffled the quilt up over their shoulders - it felt like they were hiding out together, cocooning themselves up in the warmth.

"I only had one boyfriend, you see, and he… it wasn't like a… I'd known him all my life. He used to tease me at junior school! Then when we got older, he asked me out one day, and I said yes, because I didn't have a boyfriend and I didn't really know what it meant. So that was it, he was my boyfriend. For almost seven years."

Charles listened quietly as Elsie bared her soul. It was a strange feeling to hear about her previous relationship. On the one hand he hated it, hated the thought of anyone else being able to kiss and touch her the way he could, but on the other, well, he was rather pleased - proud that he seemed to have been able to satisfy her in way her ex couldn't.

"I never wanted the life he did." She admitted, feeling his hand warm and heavy on her hip beneath the sheets. "Farming and such. I always wanted to leave, see the world, you know. Some of it. So, when I was getting close to finishing my exams and thoughts of University were close he started to get upset, I guess I had sex with him because I felt bad."

"Did he…" Charles could barely utter the next words, "force you?"

"No," she almost giggled, "of course not. He's not that kind of boy. We just… we'd been arguing about me leaving and he was so upset over it all and it was raining one afternoon when he came to my father's farm so we hid in the barn to talk and then we just… it just happened. Right there on the hay. Frantic and clumsy. Nothing like this." She bit her lip again, it felt oddly satisfying to tell him this. She'd never told anyone, not even her girlfriends back home.

"You didn't enjoy it then?"

She rolled her eyes, "I was barely out of my jeans, and I was too flipping scared of my Dad walking in, and the straw in my hair and how much it hurt to even consider 'enjoying' it. I guess your first time was all angels and rainbows?" She teased.

"Hardly!" he chuckled. "I don't think anyone's first time is like that. But it's different for guys - we're kinda guaranteed a 'happy ending'."

She laughed loudly, covering her mouth quickly when the reality of where they were returned. "I don't think I've ever heard it described quite that way," she whispered.

He laughed too. "That expression not reached the highlands yet then? Hardly surprising given that you only got electricity and running water up there, what, five years ago?" he teased.

"Ha ha!" she exclaimed, slapping his chest. "Don't be mean now."

"Sorry." He turned serious again. "I'm sorry your first time wasn't great. You should have been with someone who cared about your pleasure too."

"I don't think it was that," she said, leaning further into him, "he didn't know what he was bloody doing neither. And it was no better the second time. So, that was that."

"Well, I hope I know what I'm doing. I think I do at any rate."

She giggled again, "Was that meant to sound quite so pompous?"

"No. But given the earth-shattering orgasm you had before… well… I think it's safe to say I did well."

She shuddered against him as she laughed, slapping his chest again, "Mr Carson. What a presumptuous thing you are! I'm not going to find out all these months of friendship have just been because you're a philanderer who wants another notch on his bedpost, am I?" she joked.

"Of course not!" He was affronted at the suggestion, even though he knew she was only teasing.

She nudged his chin with her nose, watching as his eyes cast downward to her mouth. "You know what I'd like to do?"she whispered, as he enfolded her in his arms and kissed her forehead.

"What's that then?"

"Go play in the snow," she offered, her fingertips tracing down the back of his neck.

"What? Now?!"

"I've always wanted to do something odd, you know, when everyone else is asleep. Go out and walk barefoot in the snow at 4:00 in the morning - that seems odd, right?"

"Extremely!" he replied, shaking his head in disbelief at the notion.

"Do you not want to?" she almost pouted. "I'll probably only last two minutes in it before wimping out."

"Well it wasn't high on my list of things to do after sleeping with you, no."

"You could _sleep_ with me again, after," she glanced up at him through her eyelashes, "if you want to."

He looked around eagerly. "Where are my clothes?"

She chuckled, flopping onto her back. "I can't put my jeans back on, you have any sweatpants I could borrow?"

"I'll find you something," he said, already climbing out of bed.

"Thanks," She began to push the sheets down the stopped herself - it felt a bit strange to dress in front of him. And yet there he was, naked as the day he was born and looking damn fine with it. She sat up in his bed, chewing on the end of her thumb nail. "You have a very fine arse, you know."

"Why, thank you" he smiled cheekily over his shoulder as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants, wiggling purposefully for her.

"Aww, you've covered it up."

"You're the one who wants to go out in the snow and there's no way I'm going out there stark-bollock naked."

She smiled, "Nicely put. Look away then, and pass me some clothes."

He grabbed some clean clothes from his chest of drawers and held them out to her, his gaze not leaving her. He raised his eyebrow in challenge.

"Charles… I feel embarrassed now." She said sheepishly, pulling her jumper over her head and tugging it down over her breasts beneath the quilt.

"I don't see why; you're gorgeous."

She blushed, "Well, you're pretty gorgeous yourself you know, Charlie."

"I'm glad you think so." He pulled on a jumper.

She took the opportunity and pulled the sweatpants he'd given her under the sheets, tugging them over her feet and up her legs, wiggling her bottom.

He was disappointed to find her dressed when he looked up. He'd wanted another look at her; the fleeting one he'd had before had left him hungry for more.

She practically jumped out of bed then, grabbing his hand as he bent to pull his socks on, "No socks, barefeet, remember. For the thrill."

"You're blinking bloody crazy."

"And…?"

He shook his head at her carefree attitude. "Come on then," he said, holding out his hand. "Before I change my mind."

She followed him down the stairs, leaning heavily on his shoulders as they tiptoed down in the dark; it was two flights of stairs before they got into the hall, through the kitchen and to the back door that led to the yard.

She waited as Charles unlocked the back door, shivering already and stepping from foot-to-foot. It was black beyond the porch entrance, almost inky purple, and wisps of snow still fell - dancing through the air in front of them.

"It's bloody freezing!" Charles declared.

"Yes, but kinda magical." She moved to stand beside him, tugging up the sweatpants that were far too big for her and tying the belt tight again. Then she bent, rolled up the legs to her knees and prepared to step outside.

"Come on, then, unless you're chicken…" And she stepped out quickly, her toes curling in upon themselves as they hit the ice.

Bracing himself, Charles closed his eyes and slowly lowered the toes of his right foot to the ground outside. He quickly retracted them again, however, when they touched the icy surface.

"Come on," she said, hopping from foot-to-foot as she turned in the snow to face him. "I dare you to race me from here down to the end of the garden and back!"

"Suppose I get frostbite?"

"Suppose we get hit by a falling star? Suppose a bomb goes off? Suppose your penis freezes, drops off and we only ever end up having sex just that once!"

She laughed loudly at his expression, then covered her mouth, remembering it was the early hours of the morning. She held her hand out, "Come on then, I'll keep you warm." She flexed her fingers towards him. "I mean, remember, I don't have underwear on under here…"

Realising that the sooner he got out there, the sooner he could be back inside, stripping his clothes off her and revealing her naked body, Charles practically jumped off the step.

"Okay, ready, 3...2…" she dropped his hand. "...ready...1!" And she raced down the garden, kicking the snow with the front of her foot, holding up the sweatpants with one hand and listening to Charles complain behind her.

She was on her return leg before he'd even reached the fence and not even a last minute burst of speed helped him catch up. They stood panting at the back door. Her bent forwards, her hands on her knees. Him, stood tall, allowing the air into his lungs. "That wasn't fair," he began.

"Men always say that when they lose." She said pompously, hands on her hips.

"You'd had more time to acclimatise to the cold on your feet.".

"Only because you were too wimpy to just get on with it. And besides, you forget, I grew up in Scotland - snow is a way of life." She stood on her tiptoes, stretching her arms up to rest on his shoulders and moving her face close to his. There were snowflakes melting on his nose. "Would you deny me my win?"

"Never," he replied, leaning down to kiss her. She closed her eyes at the brief contact and, as he pulled away, Charles lifted his lips, kissing away the snowflakes that had landed on her eyelashes.

Elsie slipped her cold hands beneath his jumper, pressing them against his back, "So, earlier…" she whispered, stepping backwards to the porch. "That was the first time I er...well, do you feel like…" she stepped up onto the step, moving into the house. "...maybe trying for a second time?"

"You really have to ask?" he grinned.

She shrugged, "I don't know how these things work," she glanced down to his groin. "If _it_ needs to rest…"

"With someone as gorgeous as you, it doesn't take long."

She kissed him firmly now, the height advantage of the step giving her a more powerful position as she pressed her tongue into his mouth and her arm stretched over his shoulders and behind his neck.

Smiling triumphantly, she stepped back from the kiss, rubbing her damp and frozen feet into the carpet whilst untying the belt on the sweatpants. "Come on then, can I beat you back to the bedroom too?"

"I'd like to see you try," he challenged, stepping into the house and past her before she even realised what he was doing.

* * *

 **5th December 2015**

Mae grabbed the bag of mini marshmallows from the kitchen cupboard; Lily grabbed the squirty cream from the fridge, and they headed into the lounge, finding their parents already seated on the rug before the fire.

"Well, come on then," Elsie said, turning her face to them, "it's getting cold."

On the coffee table were four mugs of hot chocolate and a rather large chocolate fudge cake sitting on a plate waiting to be sliced.

Lily began squirting the cream onto one of the drinks. "So, where did you go today?" she asked.

"We went for a lovely walk in the snow," Elsie said, getting to her knees to slice the cake. "Then your father took me for lunch." She glanced to him, "it was very nice."

Charles smiled at her. "It was," he agreed. "What about you two? How was the film?"

"Pretty poor," Mae said, taking the cream from her sister.

"Hey! Give that back! I'm in charge of the squirty cream."

"Kiss my…"

"Mae!" Charles warned.

Lily stuck her tongue out at her older sister and took the cream back, continuing with the task of finishing the hot chocolates. "I thought the film was great!" she enthused, "lots of car chases and stuff."

Mae plonked marshmallows on top of the drinks, "Can we watch a festive film?" She asked, looking to her mum.

"Ooooh yeah!" agreed Lily. "I vote for The Muppets Christmas Carol."

"Er, no! I vote for National Lampoon's Christmas!" Charles said, reaching for his drink.

"Aww, but Daddy!"

"Now, maybe we should let your father choose today, as a treat." Elsie said, handing Lily a plate. "And then next Sunday, we can watch The Muppets." She handed a plate to Mae. "And the week after Home Alone. And then I get my choice…"

"Not that black and white thing, Mum!" Mae complained.

Charles laughed, "Your mum always did enjoy It's a Wonderful Life."

"I'm a sentimental fool at heart." She said, sitting back to eat her cake.

"Sentimental, maybe, but never a fool," Charles said, glancing meaningfully at her.

Mae smiled at Lily, "Pretty awesome cake mum," she said, delighted by her parents' obvious happiness.

"Agreed," Charles said, his almost gone. "I may have to treat myself to more once this film gets going. Do you still have the DVD Mae-bae?"

"In my room." she said, chewing her cake. "I'll go in a minute."

"I'll go!" Lily jumped up, racing upstairs.

Mae licked her lips, "I'm really glad the date went well," she said quietly

Charles blushed slightly, not used to his romantic life being a topic for discussion, but agreed, "So am I."

Elsie patted Mae's back, "Thanks to you two, for making us see sense."

"Someone had to." She scrambled to her feet, "I'm gonna go get the pillows from our beds and some blankets so we can settle down on the floor for the film."

"Good idea," Charles smiled, watching her run after her sister. He reached to touch Elsie's foot - the closest thing to him as she sat at the other end of the rug. "I'd almost - _almost_ \- forgotten how happy I used to be."

She shuffled forward, patting his leg, "Me too. Kinda nice, isn't it, being together again, with them."

Just as Elsie spoke, raised voices descended from upstairs, as Mae and Lily began arguing. Being an only child, it baffled Charles how they could be best of friends one minute and at each other's throats the next. He shared a look with Elsie. "You were saying?" he smirked.

She chuckled, leaning forward pointedly until he did the same and leant in to kiss her.

"I was saying how wonderful it was to be a family again."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** This chapter carries a warning for language and scenes of a sexual nature - the M level is ramped up a bit!

Some old. Some new. All Chelsie.

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

 **5th July 2003**

Leaning forward in the bath tub Esie gripped hold of her ankles and let out a long, low groan of pain. The water around her was cooling and the brief respite it had offered was gradually disappearing.

"How are you doing?" Charles asked.

"Don't ask such inane questions, please," she gasped, one hand reaching to grip the side of the bath as she bit down on her lip. "Oh fuck. I'd almost… _almost_ … forgotten how bloody awful this is."

"It's worth it though… in the end, or so you told me last time." Charles knelt down beside the bath and felt the temperature of the water with his hand. "Do you want me to add some more hot water?"

"Yes," she breathed deeply again, leaning her head back. "Please." The contraction began to ease off and she looked at him, his concerned expression, ruffled hair - she'd gone to bed feeling odd the previous night, then woke him at 2:30 when her waters broke. It was mid-afternoon now and they were still at it. "Can you help me sit back?"

Charles helped ease her back into a more comfortable position. "Better?"

"As much as it can be." She gazed down at her stomach, running her palm over the stretched skin. "Gonna leave scars this time I feel."

"You'll still be bloody gorgeous! Scars or no scars."

"Now's not the time for flattery," she pushed herself up again, "I need to turn, Charles," she said grasping his hand. "Help me."

"It's not flattery. It's the truth," he said, helping her onto her hands and knees.

The movement was awkward and decidedly unflattering, but the relief the water brought when it surrounded her stomach was wonderful. She pressed her hands against the base of the bath and rested her forehead against the tiled wall, closing her eyes and groaning in pleasure. She was aware her bottom was stuck up in the air, but right at that moment, she couldn't give a toss what she looked like.

"Have you had any more ideas about names?"

"None." She licked her lips; what she wouldn't give for a glass of wine. "Rub my lower back, will you?"

Charles placed his hand on her back and began rubbing soothing circles, pressing lightly. "I can't remember the last time I touched you like this."

"About nine months ago, I think," she quipped, pushing back against his fingers.

"Not quite," Charles corrected. "I seem to recall a very passionate Valentine's Day…"

"Ha, as usual," she moaned as another contraction started up. "We got rid of Mae for the night."

"I took you to Delrio's for a delicious meal and when we got home you pounced on me before we even got in the door."

"Pregnancy hormones," she assured him. "We had sex on the kitchen table. You still had your trousers on."

"Your skirt was round your waist."

She laughed, despite the growing pain. "I can't even get that skirt on now."

"You will. Give it a few months."

"Don't hold out your hopes on that one."

"You re-gained your figure pretty quickly after Mae."

"I was younger then, thing were still elasticated. Apparently it's harder after the second one."

"Well, like I said before, you'll still be gorgeous." He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder.

"Charles…" she said gently.

"What is it?"

"I do love you, you know that, don't you?"

He gave her a questioning look. "Of course I do."

"I'm sorry."

"That's a silly sorry."

"I am silly, I'm horrid to you." She pushed herself to her knees, reaching for his hand until he helped her up and she could lean back.

Charles shook his head. "You're not. Yes, we argue at times, but that's normal."

"I was horrid at the start of this, screaming at you in the kitchen." she gasped, squeezing his hand, her head flopping to the side to rest against his arm where it supported her around her shoulders.

"You were scared, worried. It's over now. Don't let's dredge it all up." He brought his other hand around to stroke her hair.

"I'm still scared… terrified."

"Oh sweetheart. Of what?"

"Doing this, having another one."

Charles suddenly became very aware of how he'd cajoled and persuaded her in those first few months and he felt ashamed. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you, shouldn't have pushed you into this.

"Oh God, don't say that Charles. I need you to be the strong, certain one."

"I am certain. I know that you'll be a great mother and that this baby will bring us joy. But I shouldn't have chivvied and bullied you when, if I'd had any sensitivity at all...

"Stop," she gasped, almost frantically. "Ohhhh I need to get out, I think it's coming."

Charles helped her up, wrapping her in a towel. "I'll get the midwife."

* * *

"Alright Elsie, now you've done this before…"

"Give me the drugs." She demanded, writhing on the bed, "last time I tried to cope, this time just pump me full of them." She held out her arm.

"It's too late for that I'm afraid. This baby is coming now. And quickly, too, by the look of things."

"We've waited all bloody day!" Elsie snapped, throwing herself back on the pillows.

"Well, it seems she's impatient now."

"She's certainly keeping us on our toes," Charles commented.

"Just like her father then," sighed Elsie. "I hope that's not a sign of her future character."

"Now, now, love." He moved to stand beside her, kissing her head and easing an arm around her shoulders.

"Oh God, she's coming _right_ now." Elsie suddenly exclaimed.

"Yes, Elsie, we'll get you ready." The midwife said, still scribbling on her notes.

" _Now._ Not get ready. Right. Now!" She scrunched her hand in Charles'. "She's here now," she said panicking, "I can feel it."

"Stay calm love," Charles whispered. "It'll be alright."

"No it won't," she shifted her bottom on the bed, kicking off the sheets.

"Okay Elsie," the midwife said. "Push."

"Make sure she's okay, Charles, don't let her get hurt…"

"She'll be fine, Els."

"You need to push Elsie," the midwife urged.

"You don't need to tell me to fucking push, she's coming!"

"Els, come on. You can do this," Charles encouraged.

"Shut up! Just shut up, for god's sake."

Charles tried to remember that Elsie was in pain, that she was worried, but her words still hurt. He was only trying to help. He let go of her hand, moving down towards the base of the bed in order to follow Elsie's instructions and to give her some space.

"Don't leave," she said suddenly, holding her hand out to him, "Help me, Charles, help."

He took her hand and moved beside her, wrapping his arm around her, "I'll always be here. I promise darling." He kissed her head; he could do nothing more than be there as she gave birth to their second child.

* * *

"Love is something you don't ask for," Elsie said later, cradling the tiny, fair bundle in her arms. She was tucked up in bed; clean, fresh, a pile of pillows behind her. Charles was moving about the room, putting things in place how he thought Elsie would like them. He stopped when she spoke, they'd been silent for so long now, letting Lily sleep after her hour long cries.

"What do you mean?"

"You can ask for passion, desire, sex. All that stuff. You find someone attractive, you want someone to touch you, bring you to life over and over again." She lifted Lily's tiny hand, resting her fingers along the edge of her hand. "But you don't ask for love. Why would you? It's so all-consuming, it changes everything. It's scary and messy. Difficult. You can't be free of it. And still, there it is. Here it is."

Charles put down the nappy bag he'd been holding, moving silently to the chair by the bed. "And, you don't want that? This?"

"That's not what I said." She didn't take her eyes from Lily's face. "I didn't ask for love. But then, who does?"

"I did."

Now she looked at him.

"When I first met you, I hoped one day you'd love me. When I realised I was falling for you, I hoped that in time you might find similar feelings for me…" He allowed himself an impish grin. "Even if it was just a tiny amount."

"Oh Charles, much more than a tiny amount." She held out one hand to touch him. "Overwhelmingly so, at the start I wasn't quite sure what to do with the feelings." She looked back to her daughter, only a few hours old, "Just like the first time I held Mae, and felt terrified of what I felt for her. I'm not terrified of it now," she pressed a kiss to Lily's head. "Kind of odd isn't it, how something you didn't have before is suddenly here and you find your heart blossoms in a whole new direction? I was so scared of this, of being a mother again." She rocked Lily in her arms. "And now she's here and it couldn't be more perfect."

"You're perfect," he replied, moving to perch on the bed next to her. "And Mae-Bae and this little one. All three of you. My perfect girls."

"I can't wait to take her home," she said, gazing at her daughter's face. "Into her room, our building-site of a home, but her little room with her yellow walls and blue ceiling and all those teddies Mae's piled in the corner for her.

"I wonder what Mae'll make of her, now she's here?" Charles pondered.

"We'll find out soon enough," Elsie replied. "What time did your mother say they'd be here?"

Charles looked at his watch. "Any time now."

"Go and see if they're here," Elsie implored. "I've missed her and she needs to meet her sister."

Charles made his way out to the corridor, finding his father with Mae in his arms and his mother with arms full of flowers and a balloon. He smiled gratefully, exhausted but deliriously happy, and when Mae held out her arms and practically jumped into his he felt himself sniffle and tears spill down his cheeks as he held her.

It was all he'd ever wanted - a family with Elsie Hughes.

"Hi Princess," he whispered into her hair. "Daddy's missed you."

"Missed you Daddy," she responded, confused by his emotional response. She plonked her hands on his head, "Your hair's all fluffy." She giggled.

Charles smiled at his youngest daughter. "I suppose it is a little."

"Can I see my Mummy now?" Mae asked, jerking her chin up as she peered over Charles' shoulder to the frosted glass of Elsie's door.

"Of course you can. And your baby sister."

Mae scrunched her nose up, "Daddy," she whispered, then leant in closer to him, cupping her tiny hand around his ear, "I brought the baby my special rabbit, because Granny says she might have to stay here for another night and if Mummy comes home now with us then baby will be scared. Won't she?"

Charles' heart melted at Mae's words; such a kind, compassionate soul - she was all her mother. "What a lovely thing to do. You're already such a good big sister." Mae beamed at the praise from her father. "We need to wait and see what the doctor says about whether Mummy and the baby can come home tonight, okay?" Mae nodded. "But we can go and see them now."

"We'll give you all some time," Edward said, "Go get a cup of tea and come back in half hour or so?"

"That'd be great Dad, thanks."

He put Mae down and Angela handed across the giant Minnie Mouse balloon to her. "There you go sweetheart, the one you picked for your sister. Hold it tight."

When she straightened up she handed the flowers to Charles, smiling tearfully at him, keenly aware of the happiness he was exuding, "There you go son."

"Thanks."

Unexpectedly she leant into him, grasping him tightly and hugging him, "We're so proud of you both." She said quickly, kissing his cheek. "And Mae can stay any time, she's been a little angel."

"Certainly lit up our quiet house," Edward agreed, taking his wife's hand. "Now, go on, we'll see you later. Have you called Elsie's parents?"

"Shit, no." Charles ruffled his hair for the hundredth time that day.

"Don't worry, I have the number," Angela offered, "I'll do it, I'll tell them Elsie will call when she gets home."

"Thanks, yeah," he felt Mae tugging on his trouser leg.

"Daddy, come on."

He turned and took hold of her hand. "Okay. You ready?"

"Yessssss….." she said in a sing-song voice, the toe of her pink shoes banging against the metal frame at the bottom of the door.

"You've got to be quiet in there," he told her. "And no jumping on Mummy - she's still a little sore, okay?"

"Okay, okay. That's cos she's pushed a baby out of her tummy, silly."

"Yes, quite," Charles said unsure how to reply to that; Mae was too smart for her own good sometimes.

"Mummy told me…" She dashed under Charles' arm as he finally opened the door, running towards Elsie's bed excitedly, "Mummy! Mummy! I missed you." She jumped to her tiptoes waving the balloon then stopped when she noted the white bundle resting in Elsie's arms.

Elsie watched as Mae took in the sight; the initial excitement upon seeing her mother again (they'd never spent a night apart until Elsie went into labour) and then the shock of the other being nestling in Mae's usual cuddle spot. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open and then abruptly closed as she bit down hard on her lip mulling it over, just as Elsie herself might.

"Are you alright honey?" Elsie said gently.

"Istha…" she stumbled over her words, pointing to the baby. "Is that our baby Mummy?"

"Yes. Do you want your Dad to lift you up here so you can see properly?"

Charles put the flowers down on a table and bent slightly to scoop his daughter up.

"Noo," she protested, pushing his hands away - she was becoming fiercely independent. She plodded closer to the head of the bed, noted the chair by Elsie's side, and clambered onto it. Charles placed his hand on the back of it, holding it steady and smiling at Elsie over the top of Mae's head.

Mae's boots bumped against the back of the chair as she turned, her hands on her knees as she leant forward and squinted at the baby's face.

"Like a flower," she finally said.

"A… a flower?" Elsie asked, frowning.

"Yes, see." She pointed her finger forward, pushing gently on her nose, "this is the miggle bit." The baby opened her eyes and blinked up at her sister. "Blue eyes, like Mae. And like my mummy."

"I'm _her_ mummy too, sweetheart."

Mae pondered that before pointing at the baby's cheeks, "Big petals. I can draw flowers."

"I know you can," Elsie smiled.

"Pretty good ones too," Charles said, his hands resting gently now on Mae's waist to stop her from falling.

"Like the flowers Granny brung."

"Brought," Charles corrected.

"They is lilies."

" _Are_ lilies," he corrected again.

"And she's Lily," Mae said confidently.

"Lily…" Charles pondered. They'd talked about names, but hadn't agreed on any, wanting to meet her before making a decision. "It's a nice name," he said, looking over Mae's head at Elsie.

"A beautiful name," Elsie agreed. "Do you like that?" She asked the baby, tilting her up slightly, "Do you think that makes a suitable name for you? What do you think Mae?"

Mae hooked her thumb around the baby's fingers, watching as they flexed around her own. "Tiny nails." She observed.

"Tiny everything." Charles noted, patting his daughter's head, "just like you used to be."

"Mummy told me how, Daddy."

"How what?"

"That you put baby in mummy's tummy."

Charles blushed, "Oh?"

"And now baby comes to our house." She pushed on Elsie's arm, "can I have a cuddle now mummy?"

"We didn't go into finer details," Elsie said to her husband. "Hold Lily for a while?"

"As if you have to ask," Charles said, reaching out and taking his new daughter from her mother.

"Now then, my little precious angel," she held her arms open so Mae could climb onto the bed beside her and cuddle up against her. "Oh, I missed you." She said kissing her head repeatedly. "My beautiful girl."

"I was brave Mummy, like you saided to me. Granny got a big bed with posts on it and I jumped on it and it wobbled and I bounced on my bottom." She giggled.

"And what did you have for breakfast?" She asked, holding Mae's hand in hers.

"Pancakes and Nutella."

Charles rolled his eyes, "Way to start the day."

"And then Grandad let me have Happy Meal for dinner and I gotted a lickle Chuckie doll?"

"A what doll?" Charles asked concerned as he walked the room rocking Lily back to sleep.

"It's from the Rugrats film," Elsie assured him. "What did you have in your Happy Meal?"

"Chicken nuggets and strawberry milkshake and grapes."

"You eat it all up?"

"I left two nuggets, Mummy." She said sheepishly. "Can you make me spaghetti for tea?"

"We don't know if Mummy will be home for tea tonight, remember?" Charles said gently. "We need to wait for the doctor to say it's okay for her to come home. But I can do it for you if not."

Mae pouted, "But I wants my Mummy to come home," she looked up imploringly at Elsie.

Elsie understood exactly how she felt; as preoccupied as she'd been all night - and day - there was something physically painful about having to leave her daughter with someone other than Charles. A desperate need to make sure she was safe, taken care of, treated as Elsie wanted her to be treated.

"We can only wait and see, baby, but mummy will need a few days to recover and Lily is going to need looking after so you remember how mummy said you have to be a big girl and help us with the baby?"

Mae nodded, getting to her knees at the side of Elsie. "I brung Flopsy Jopsy for Lily to keep her safe." She said, pulling the rabbit from the pocket of her trousers.

"Oh that's very sweet, she's your absolute favourite, are you quite sure you're going to be able to sleep without Flopsy Jopsy?"

Mae bit her lip again - she hadn't thought of that part. She looked helplessly to where Charles stood by the window, "Daddy…"

Charles turned. "Yes sweetheart?"

"Can I sleep without Flopsy?" Her lip trembled at the thought.

"I'm sure you can, but if not you can always crawl in with me for a cuddle. How does that sound?"

She nodded vigorously. "I will give her then."

Charles moved back to the bed, to the side of where Mae was knelt. "She's going to sleep."

Mae stared at her sister, "Lickle baby," she said, then looked up at her father until he nodded his permission and she bent to kiss the baby's forehead. "Here Lily," she said, popping the rabbit on top of the baby's stomach, "look after my Flopsy Jopsy."

Charles felt Elsie's hand reach for his and squeeze the ends of his fingers. "You were right," she said softly.

"About?"

"This. Our family."

She watched as Mae jumped down from the bed and scampered towards the window, looking out at the view. "We is high up." She said.

"We _are_ high up," Charles corrected, and he laid Lily down in the cot beside Elsie's bed before leaning over his wife and kissing her tenderly.

"I do love you," she said by his ear.

He smiled. "And I love you too."

"Not as much as you love me!" Mae said grandly, twirling round before the window.

"Well, of course not, how could that even be possible?" Charles scooped her up, twirling her around in the air. "We love you and Lily more than anything."

"A 100?" Mae asked delighted to be in her father's strong arms - he always gave the best swings.

"More than a hundred."

Mae was confused, to her there was no bigger number than one hundred. Charles had started her counting as soon as she'd started talking and she could count up to twelve now by herself but when Charles read her shape and animal books they sometimes went up to a hundred. The hundred chickens filled two pages in the book she had at home!

He stopped spinning her and picked her up again until she wrapped her legs around her father and bobbed on his waist, "Mummy and Daddy love you both to more numbers than we can ever count to."

"I can count to twelve." She said proudly. "My Daddy taughted me."

"I did, I taught you."

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six." She said quickly in succession. "Seven. Nine."

"Oh?"

"Mmm…." Mae hummed, smiling, "Eight. Nine and ten. Leven. Twelllll-ve!" She said excitedly, sticking her arms into the air.

"Well done, darling, my clever girl."

"I teach Lily to count when she comded home."

"You can. But we still need to work on your word endings."

"She'll get there Charles," Elsie said sleepily.

"Of course she will, because she's the smartest girl in the world." he bounced her in his arms. "Who's the smartest girl in the world?"

"I am!" Mae proclaimed.

"And who's the prettiest girl in the world?"

"Errr… Mae!"

"Daddy's Mae-Bae." He kissed her head.

"And Mummy," Mae said. "Mummy's pretty too."

"Mummy is the most beautiful Mummy in the whole world."

Mae nodded. "And Lily is the prettiest baby."

"Of course, because she came from your Mummy." Charles glanced across as Elsie settled down in the bed, turning onto her side to watch them playing. "Mummy's tired now."

"Sleepy mummy."

"Hey, how about we go to the cafe and find your Grandparents and maybe go have some dinner somewhere?"

"MacDonalds?!"

"Not twice in one day," Charles said.

"Not twice in one week," Elsie mumbled.

"I'll get you spaghetti, and then Granny can take you home and Daddy will come back later to see about bringing Mummy home too."

"Won't they want to see Lily?" Elsie asked.

"We'll figure something out, don't worry." He carried Mae to the bed. "Gonna kiss your Mummy bye bye?"

"Bye bye Mummy," Mae said, placing a sloppy kiss to Elsie's cheek.

"Bye, my darling," she rubbed Mae's back. "Love you."

Mae wriggled out of her father's arms and skipped to the cot in which her baby sister now lay and stuck her face right up to the perspex. "Bye bye Lily," she whispered. "See you soon."

* * *

 **June 2011**

Elsie slipped her shoes off beneath the desk and curled her toes, feeling the warm material of her stockings pulling tight over her toenails. She rubbed her heels into the rough carpet, rolled her neck back and dropped her pencil to the desk.

It was far too warm to work and despite the fact she'd taken off her jacket and pinned her hair up out of the way, she still felt drained by the lazy heat.

Turning her attention back to the spreadsheet on her computer screen she twisted her chair slightly so she was facing it, picked up her pencil and continued jotting down numbers onto the pad on her desk.

When the rap at her door came she expected Anna with tea (giving her an excuse for another mini-break) but when she glanced up, over the top of her glasses, she found Charles nervously peeking through the gap in the door.

"Hi," he whispered, afraid to disturb her.

She quickly yanked her glasses off, suddenly feeling flushed, "Hi. What are you…?"

He stepped in, closing the door shut behind him, "I was going to email you and ask…" he shrugged, "it seemed silly to do so. So, I thought I'd just come see you instead."

"See me about what?" She twisted her chair round again, indicating the one across the other side of the desk for him.

"The firm's summer garden party. You've planned it for the past seven years and I wondered if you'd carry on. I understand if you don't want to," he added quickly. "I can find somebody else but… you always did it so well and everyone always had a good time."

For a moment, a very brief moment, she floundered. This she hadn't expected. After being separated for thirteen months she'd expected a meeting to discuss divorce proceedings, perhaps permanent shared custody of both girls. But no. He'd made a trip out of his way to her offices to discuss a summer party.

"Last year?" She asked with a frown, turning the page over on her pad to a fresh one. "Who did that?"

"We didn't have one," he admitted. "Just took everyone out for a meal instead. It was extremely dull by comparison."

She smiled slightly at that, a feeling of pride blooming in her chest. "Well, I er, I'm happy to take some details of course. But it is already June Charles, we are very busy." It felt odd being business-like with him; in the past when they'd discussed his parties, it had been over family dinners or a quick chat in the car or sometimes, in the early days, whilst she was in the bath and he sat on the floor beside her sharing a bottle of wine.

"I don't want to cause you extra stress or add to an already heavy workload."

"No, of course…" She crossed her ankles beneath the table, suddenly aware that she had bare feet. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh. So you can do it? I don't mind when… whatever date works best for you."

"Well, if not me personally then one of the others, I'm sure." she reached for her glasses. "If that's okay?"

He wanted her to do it personally; her events were always more to his taste, coming he supposed from knowing him so well, but he knew not to push his luck. "That's fine," he replied, hoping that she wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to get involved.

"I'll do my best though," she slid her glasses on, opening up her diary on the computer. "I'm assuming you want a similar function to the things I did in the past? A kind of fete?"

"Yes. Something the staff can bring their families to, their children, husbands… wives." His eyes found hers as he realised that he was speaking of something that they didn't have anymore… a family.

Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips, her hand travelling across the desk to her phone and pressing the communication through to Anna. "I'll get us some tea."

"Alright," he nodded.

"Will you take the girls? They'd like it."

"Of course, unless it's your weekend to have them… I wouldn't want to encroach."

"As if I'd bother about that Charles," she was scanning through the diary, down to August. "How is Lil…?" She asked gently, it had been eight days since she'd seen her and she missed her desperately. "How was the school trip?"

"She's fine. Trip was a roaring success. She really enjoyed it." It had only been a local visit; to Jorvik Viking Centre and Lily had been several times before, but to speak to her it had seemed as if this trip was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"She has your love of history," Elsie commented. "I'm glad she enjoyed it so much," she said without a trace of regret - she had missed her day (and sleepover) with her mum to take the trip.

"Do you want to come over tonight and see her?" he offered. "She can tell you all about it herself then. Or I can drop her round at yours for a few hours?"

"Well, I," she looked up to the door as Anna came in. "Anna, I wondered if you might make us some tea."

"Charles?" Anna exclaimed and he turned quickly in his chair, getting to his feet and hugging the young lady. "So good to see you."

"And you. How are you?"

"Oh you know, busy, we're all busy." She glanced to Elsie.

"And I'm afraid I've just added to your workload with my firm's summer garden party."

"Oh, I used to love those!" Anna enthused.

Elsie watched the exchange with a hint of jealousy; he seemed to have relaxed immeasurably with Anna and somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered if they'd ever be as relaxed with each other again.

"Bring biscuits too," Elsie suddenly said curtly, clicking on the calendar. "How about August 14th?"

Charles took his pocket diary from inside his jacket and flicked to 14th August. "Looks fine to me."

"Good." She pressed on the date. "Do you need me to send out invitations to your staff and their families?"

Charles glanced at her from the page, slightly taken aback by her sudden frostiness. "Erm… yes please, if you wouldn't mind; I'm bound to forget someone if I do it. I'll get you a list of select clients I was planning on inviting too."

"Alright. If you could email them." She gave him a quick look. "Or fax, at the least."

"I could always pop them in when I drop Lil off sometime." He didn't like all this newfangled technology.

She bit the inside of her cheek, she much preferred digital copies, they were easier to manipulate. If he gave her paper then one of her staff would end up typing the list up… ahh well. He'd never really moved with the digital age as she had. It was quite endearing really. She rested her chin on her balled up hand, "You look well, Charles."

He didn't really know how to respond to that. He was aching from being in the same room with her; so close and yet so far. It was taking all his energy just to get through the conversation. In the end he settled on a simple, "Thanks. You too."

She curled her finger into the back of her hair, where the tendrils had fallen loose from the clip she wore, loosening in the humidity of her office. "I don't feel it. It's stifling in here."

"You need air conditioning."

"It's broken, the air con. I called the engineer this morning but you know how things are."

He remembered a time when she was a timid wee thing, especially with strangers, especially when she had to make phone calls and complain about something. She hated it. Would have to be on her own in order to do it. Now, she looked every inch the confident, and successful, businesswoman.

He tugged on his jacket, wondering if his next words would be overstepping the boundaries of their new… well, what was this exactly? Some sort of relationship? More than an acquaintance. "I have a fan you could borrow. I bought one last summer, but then my Mother found some in her attic and brought them round, and I really don't need three… you're welcome to the spare one if it will help."

She smiled warmly, "Thanks for the offer, but I'm guaranteed a working system by the end of the week. And I take promises seriously."

He knew that; when someone broke a promise to Elsie she found it hard to forgive, to trust them. He'd promised her he'd be around more when Lil' was born - a promise he'd broken which had, as much as he didn't want to admit it, ultimately led to the breakdown of their marriage.

When Anna had brought the tea and Elsie poured it for them and sat down again Elsie wondered why she'd ordered it. There was little they had to discuss in terms of the party - she knew his tastes, what he'd want it to be. And the whole thing felt a little awkward.

"So, this summer?" She suddenly said, snapping a ginger biscuit in half.

"What about it?"

"I just wondered what you'd like to do. It worked okay last year with us having a week each, but I was thinking of maybe taking them abroad this year, and it seems silly to travel a distance for only a week, you know?"

"You have something in mind?"

"They want Disney." She said sheepishly, awaiting his sarcastic response. "I can take them on my own if you don't fancy it, but we'll have to go for two weeks, no point going for less."

"You're asking me to come?" he asked, shocked.

She bit her lip, "Well," shuffled the papers on her desk. "Not if you don't want to."

"No, I'm just surprised, that's all. I thought you'd want some time with them on your own."

"I do, I mean, of course." Why did she suddenly feel so flustered? "It's just that, well you remember when they were little, when Mae discovered The Little Mermaid…?"

"And we watched it a thousand times!"

"Yes. And you told her one day we'd take her to the real land where they all lived and she believed you. I didn't think you'd want to miss it is all," she shrugged. "But I don't mind, taking them on my own. I can manage it."

"As much as I doubt Mae still believes, I…"

She blushed, "No. Maybe not." She pushed her chair back from the desk. "It doesn't matter, I'll just go ahead and book for the three of us."

"No, you misunderstand me. I'd like to, if you're sure you want me to come?"

"You don't have to spend any time with me, Charles, if that's what concerns you." She suddenly felt very defensive, it had taken her a hell of a lot to actually bring this point up.

"That isn't what I said," he shot back. "But as we're proving right now, we can barely be in the same room for more than half an hour without arguing. Won't be much of holiday, will it?" He sighed. "I just want to make sure, that's all… before we fork out all that money and it be a complete disaster. As wonderful as I'm sure the girls would find it, they don't deserve to be put through that."

"Then don't come," she huffed, folding her arms. "But don't complain when we've all had a wonderful time without you." She picked her pencil up, for some unknown reason, and waved it at him, "And I'll remind you that you came here today to ask me for a favour."

"No, I was looking to employ your company's services. But if you're not going to be civil to me, then sod it!" He turned on his heel and stormed out.

"Oh fuck," Elsie chastised herself, throwing her pencil down. That wasn't how it was meant to go. "Bollocks!" She threw the pencil across the room. Like bloody children.

Shoving her feet back into her shoes she got up from her chair, rounded the desk and tripped over his briefcase, sending her falling into the door.

"Shit!"

She picked up the case and opened her office door; she was damned if she'd chase after him - but she certainly walked that little bit quicker as she headed down the corridor and towards the lift. Charles, thankfully, was still leaning against it, cursing its speed as he continually pressed the 'call' button.

Stopping beside him she placed his briefcase on the floor by his feet.

"Sorry," she said gently.

"Don't worry about it."

"But I do worry, I didn't mean to make you feel awkward. I've gone over a thousand times how to ask you, I didn't consider you'd say no. And I should have."

"I didn't say no," he reminded. "I just asked if you were sure and you took that to mean…" he shrugged. "Well I don't even know..."

"Believe me, Charles, I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't." She shuffled from one foot to the other. "I felt embarrassed, asking you…" She felt like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole and was glad when the lift door opened and he stepped inside; she followed him, pressing the button for the ground floor. It beat talking in the bloody office corridor.

"Shall we start again?" he suggested, hating to see her embarrassed. She had no need to be nervous with him. Even after everything. "Elsie, I'm in a bit of a pickle and could use your help. I need to organise the summer garden party and, as usual, I've left it to the last minute to even start thinking about it. i don't suppose you'd be able to…" he waved his arm, "you know…"

She laughed, "Of course I'll help, Charles." He was smiling at her and she wanted to reach across and touch his arm. "And I was hoping we could take our daughters to Florida this year, Disneyland. Because they'll love it." She folded her arms, more to force herself to keep her hands to herself than for comfort. "And because, well, because there's nothing either of us loves more and I think we could make it work for them, if we tried."

"We love them both to more numbers than we can ever count to," remembered Charles; he'd said that to Mae the day Lily was born, it had stuck and was often referenced by his daughter or himself.

Elsie gasped at his words, hiding it behind her hand. It hurt to hear him say it, to remember where it came from.

She chewed on her fingernail, looking away from him. "So, I'll email you the hotel I was considering? See what you think?"

"Yeah, sure. Although I'm sure it'll be fine; you always had good taste. Let me know what dates you were thinking too."

"Of course, I'm sorry, I forgot you'll need to try and book the dates."

"It shouldn't be a problem," he said. "Robert and Cora have already been on their big trip this year."

She glanced to the flashing lights, noting they were approaching the first floor - she felt as if they were running out of time.

"Okay. That's good. So, I'll get started this afternoon on the party and then… well, maybe you could some for dinner one night? We can discuss the holiday with the girls together? If you're not busy, of course."

"Let me know what night works for you. It's pretty quiet at work at the moment."

She nodded, "Charles." She said seriously.

"Elsie?" He responded, equally as serious.

"I'm sorry that we…" She waved a hand between them, "we couldn't make _us_ work. But for the girls… we're both smart, decent people aren't we?"

He nodded, his throat tight, incapable of speech.

"And we were friends, _good_ friends, before anything happened. And I think we can be civil to each other. If we try."

"I think so too," he agreed, as the lift doors opened on the ground floor. He stepped out, turning back to face her. "Well… I'll say goodbye."

"Bye," she said simply, turning in the lift and watching him step out into the busy foyer. "I'll call you, or text."

"Sure. That's fine." He backed away from the lift doors.

"Charles…"

"Yes?"

"You forgot your briefcase... again."

* * *

 **Present Day - Date #2**

Charles sat at the bar, nursing a glass of red wine. He looked at his watch; 6.50pm. They'd arranged to meet at 6.30. He called both her office - no answer - and her mobile, it had rang and eventually gone to voicemail. He was starting to worry; two possible scenarios running through his head. One: that she'd changed her mind about the whole thing and wasn't coming, or two, that something had happened. He didn't know which would be worse.

He picked his phone up from where it sat on the bar - he'd wanted it somewhere he could see it, in case she'd tried to contact him - and was just about to call her again when she appeared in front of him, looking flustered and concerned.

"I am so, _so_ sorry!" she said, catching her breath. She'd ran from the car, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer. "I got stuck in a meeting with Richard Carlisle."

"The newspaper guy?"

"One and the same. I'm organising his firm's Christmas party. He prattled on about nothing of consequence until 6:20 and then I wanted to change and brush my hair…" she sighed, slapping her handbag onto the bar. "So. I'm sorry."

Charles laid his hand on hers where it sat on the bar, still holding tight to the strap of her bag. "It's alright, don't worry."

"Oh, but I was… I just...," she slipped onto the stool beside him - it amused him how it took her a hefty push from the bar to get to the seat, whilst his feet still touched the floor. "I thought, 'typical, second date and work already interfering. I didn't want you to think that I'd already gone back on our promise." She turned on her stool to face him, her knees touching his, "Didn't want you to be pissed at me."

"I was more worried than pissed. I thought something had happened… I tried to call you but I just got your voicemail."

"I had it on silent." She rummaged in her bag, "in fact I still have."

"Well, you're here now," Charles said. "That's the important thing."

She smiled, his hand was still on hers. "Yes. I am."

"What would you like to drink?" he asked.

"A very large Pinot. And some nuts."

Charles called the barman over and ordered Elsie's drink, as well as the nuts and a bag of pork scratchings, before turning back to her. "So, apart from the fiasco with Richard Carlisle, how was your day?"

"Oh, you know, frantically busy. It's Christmas after all. Everyone's poor, stressed and in misery." She chuckled, "How was yours?"

Charles was about to give the same old perfunctory answer of 'fine' when he remembered the conversation they'd had in the country pub on Saturday, when he'd admitted to her for the first time, how unhappy his job sometimes made him. "It was… as tedious and monotonous as ever."

She smiled sadly, briefly resting her hand on his knee "You know, you could always come work with me. I'm surrounded by women - be nice to have a handsome, reliable man to handle the male clients, win over the older females."

"I doubt any of your female clients would be interested in me."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she reached to take a sip of her wine. "That voice, for a start." She glanced back to his face, "and your hands."

He looked at his hands, turning them over, inspecting them. He couldn't see anything remarkable about them.

"A woman likes strong hands, Charles, to open jars!" She popped a handful of peanuts into her mouth.

"Isn't that a bit… sexist?"

She laughed, "You mean in all your years you still haven't learned that women are a mass of contradictions?"

He chuckled, before replying in a teasing tone, "It would appear not… which, given that I was married to you, is a bit of a surprise."

"Still married," she pointed out, before taking another sip of her wine.

He was silent for a moment, then ploughed on. "I've been looking into something anyhow."

"Oh?"

"How much rental properties make."

"You're thinking of becoming a landlord?"

He shrugged. "It's just an abstract idea at the moment. But seeing our old student digs, empty and bereft of life, well… the kid did say it was for sale."

Her eyes widened at the implication, "You're thinking of selling your share in the business? Or just taking on an invisible partner role? Don't you have something like 65% since your father retired?"

"I've not really thought about the logistics, save for cutting back my hours as we've already discussed."

She slid her little finger around the rim of her glass, "I know you always planned for Mae to have it, the business, once she showed an aptitude for maths. You remember how she used to love going to your office when she was small? How excited she got to spin in Daddy's chair, sit behind his big desk?"

He smiled at the memory. "She used to love that. I may be able to buy it without selling my share of the firm. It depends..." He didn't dare mention that the main thing it depended on would be if they worked out and he moved back in. If that happened, which he very much hoped it would at some point in the not too distant future, he could sell his house and use the money from that to buy their old student house. "I need to sit down with the figures. Which is a less than appealing prospect when it's all I do all day, every day," he joked.

"But you've always been good at it, Charles, just like Mae - quick as a shot with numbers. I'm still carrying across the odd digit."

He smiled at that. "Yes I'm good at it. Doesn't mean I want to spend my spare time doing it. Especially not now, when there are more important things I could be doing."

She bit her lip, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you did." She glanced to her lap, to where her hand rested.

He reached for her hand. "I think you missed the important part of that statement. I'd much rather spend time with you than stare at endless columns of figures."

She smirked, "A different kind of figure…? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"If it's not too cheesy…"

They both laughed together, and she felt his hand rest upon hers again.

"Let me take you out for dinner," she said, "to make up for me being late and worrying you. Rustique? You always liked it there."

"Now?" He glanced at his watch; they'd only arranged to have drinks - Beryl was watching the girls.

"No, I mean another night. Another date. I have to collect the girls in an hour or so."

"You don't have to make anything up to me," Charles said. "But, having said that, I'm not going to turn down a night out with you, especially at Rustique, if the offer still stands."

"Of course," she turned her hand over, folding her fingers around his.

"Thursday?"

She mentally thought over what day it was - Tuesday - that wasn't too long until she got to see him again. "You have plans Friday night?"

"I don't think so. Why? Are you busy Thursday?"

"Not at all. But I was thinking I might put the Christmas decorations up on Friday night, the girls have been asking all week and I thought we'd go fetch the tree."

He smiled warmly, "I'd really like that."

"So would we. I'll cook too, something wintery and warming."

"Sounds perfect. I can go get the tree if you like, on my way round, if that's easier?"

"That would be lovely. Means I can get started and hopefully we'll have it all done before midnight!" She took a sip of her wine before slowly saying. "Mae has a date on Saturday"

Charles' eyes widened. "A date?!"

"I knew I'd see that face! She is fifteen, and he's a nice boy, we've known him since they were at Junior school together - Adam."

"That scrawny kid with dark hair… lives round the corner?"

"He's quite the looker now. And besides, I seem to remember you being the wrong side of skinny when we first started dating - didn't my father call you a zipper with a nose when I first introduced you?"

"You always used to say you liked the way I looked."

"I liked it when you bulked out a bit too, didn't make me feel so self conscious about having curves."

His eyes raked slowly over her. "I like your curves," he whispered.

She blushed, leaning in closer to him, "Don't say things like that - this is a public, busy place, and you'll make me want to kiss you."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" he asked, a glint in his eye.

"No, but folks don't tend to like watching older people snogging. So unless you want to make out in your car, stop flirting with me."

"Not with my back love, not anymore."

Elsie giggled and Charles grinned at her. He loved the sound of her laugh and was secretly proud that he could elicit it from her as easily as he could.

Later, as he walked her back to her car, her arm looped through his, taking in the lights. The trees of the square were beautifully illuminated and despite the fact Christmas was still a few weeks off, and work was as hectic as it ever could be, Elsie felt decidedly festive.

"So," Charles stated, "Friday. Did you have a time in mind?"

"Let's try and eat for 7:00; I don't like the girls eating too late."

" _I don't_ like eating too late."

She laughed, rubbing his arm. "That I remember. I may make that steak and stilton stew you always enjoy so much."

"Cheesy mash?" He asked hopefully.

"Depends…" She teased.

"On?"

"The size of the tree you bring back."

"It's always about the size with you, isn't it?"

The both chuckled like naughty school kids.

"A woman has to have standards."

"Yeah. Yeah." He patted where her hand lay upon his arm. "Shall I take Lil?"

"Definitely not. She always goes for the biggest one available," she paused, reflecting on how far she could take the flirtation before it was a step too far. But then again, they knew each other so well, going too far seemed unlikely.

"She hasn't quite realised that size isn't everything. It's what you do with it that counts."

He bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing, "Oh. And is it not possible to have both?"

She turned slightly in front of him, slowing his steps, "Only a lucky few can manage it."

"You're decidedly naughty, Mrs Carson."

Her eyebrows rose, "You used to call me naughty Miss Hughes, remember?"

"Yeah, but let's face it, we'd only been dating a couple of months when I realised I wanted you to be Mrs Carson." He paused, debating whether to add to his statement with what he was thinking. "I wanted you to be Mrs Carson for the rest of our lives."

She was still standing in front of him, walking slowly backwards. One of her hands still holding his rather awkwardly. She swallowed at the implication of his statement.

"Do you think," she said gently, her earlier silliness abating, "at any point over the past five years, that I _stopped_ being Mrs Carson?"

"There were times," he replied, "when I thought you didn't want to be."

She stopped the pretense of walking now and they stood still in the park. "I think I forgot how to be her." She shook her head, "No. That's wrong. I don't mean that. What I mean is I started to feel I had different roles I had to play: the old student Elsie, perfect mother, businesswoman, and then this idea of 'wife', which alternated between being supportive, organised, sex-bomb." She smiled at that, "I just couldn't juggle it all."

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, "What I've realised over the past few years is that they're all one and the same. And you're right. I've always been Mrs. Carson."

He stepped in close to kiss her and she rested her hands on his chest, "Wait a second," she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. She tilted her head to the side questioningly, "You're not about to lick my face, are you?"

His brow furrowed in confusion, "What?"

"Just something Mae said the other day, doesn't matter really. You can kiss me now."

"Oh, I can, can I? Well, thanks for the green light."

"Make it good though," she warned teasingly.

"Now I feel under pressure." he pouted playfully.

"Oh, shut up!" She said, raising up on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

As soon as their lips touched his arms wrapped around her and then they melted into each other. He often found that, as he was so much taller and broader than her, he could wrap her inside his coat with him.

As the kiss intensified she pulled back slightly, her mouth still close to his, and glanced behind him, noticing people coming down the path. She pushed him back onto the grass and round the side of a majestic oak tree until they were out of sight.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you leading me astray again, Mrs Carson?"

"Oh, but you love it," she replied flirtatiously, tugging him back to her and whispering by his mouth, "tell me to stop."

"I don't want you to," he whispered in response. "I've gone without you long enough."

She moaned deeply as he deepened the kiss, bracing her against the tree as he pressed against her body. As the kiss continued she sought the warmth of his body: her hands sliding into his open coat and around his back, clutching at the cotton fabric of his shirt. He followed her lead, seeking her body, fingers sliding eagerly inside her coat and around her waist; moaning her name as the palms of his hands eased over the tantalising curve of her hips.

She shortened the kiss - easing it back to just a touch of lips against lips. "We better stop," she whispered, her mouth still brushing his.

"Mmm…"

"Or I can see us re-enacting a scene from our youth."

He smiled, "A rather memorable scene, as I recall."

* * *

 **October 2003**

When Mae was born it was only nine weeks before they made love again. Elsie had been nervous - scared things might have changed - but she needn't have worried. Charles treated her like china, in fact she couldn't recall him ever being so gentle and tender. Far from 'changing' their sex life, becoming parents seemed to have deepened it on some level. The intimacy there was increased, the respect deepened, and the tenderness they had for each other even greater.

When Lily was born it was very different.

Mae slotted into their lives, in their little house with their few possessions. She slept in their bedroom in her cot at the end of the bed in the beginning. She fed on Elsie's chest in the middle of the night with Charles watching it like some kind of miracle. Everything was new. Precious. The first time she bathed, the first gurgle and smile, weaning her onto solid food, Charles trying to teach her to talk, Elsie helping her walk from the couch to the coffee table.

It was harder with Lily.

Maybe because the birth had been harder, longer, maybe because Elsie was still uncertain about how her life would go now with two children. Maybe because they'd bought a new house with a huge mortgage and Charles worked and worked and worked.

There were problems with breastfeeding. She was in agony for weeks and had to express and use a bottle - this would have been perfect for sharing duties but Charles wasn't always around at feeding time, and now he usually slept through the night he was so exhausted.

And Lily cried. Mae had been such a calm and easy-going baby (a far cry from her teenage years when Elsie's sassy voice had reared it's head). But Lily was always red-faced and upset. There were times when Elsie wondered if she were the cause of her child's temperament; she'd been so stressed during the pregnancy, so unsure of it, that maybe somehow she'd passed on her anxieties, made her own baby stressed.

And so, the intimacy that had returned so easily after the first child became something of a distant memory; a wire pulled tight and stretching at its bonds.

Three months had passed and the sex hadn't returned.

Sometimes he'd hold her at night. Sometimes she'd hold him. And once, in early September, they'd tried and it had ended in embarrassment and awkwardness as she'd pushed him away before they'd even got going and his erection had quickly disappeared.

When October came it brought his father's birthday and, of course, a family party, and so they'd dressed up, taken the girls to Beryl's overnight, and attended.

Elsie had worn a flowing black dress, keenly aware her body wasn't how it used to be - she felt softer, rounder, especially in the breast and stomach area - and they'd danced together for the first time in a very long time. And got drunk together for the first time since before she'd fallen pregnant.

"Want to walk?" Charles whispered by her ear, noting her rosy cheeks and red-tipped ears.

She nodded, not speaking, and kept hold of his hand as he'd moved across the dancefloor and led her outside.

"Here," he said, as they reached the bottom of the steps to the garden, "take my jacket."

"Thanks." She shrugged inside it before holding his hand again and for a while they walked in silence over the frosted grass - still and serene in the early hours of the morning.

"Do you want…" He started, then stopped himself.

"Do I want?"

He shrugged, swinging her hand slightly, "to talk. Maybe."

"About us, you mean?"

"Yeah. I mean, things have been…"

"Different," she suggested, "things have been different between us."

He nodded. "I thought maybe a talk would do us good. And we have the time… the girls are in good hands and Beryl said not to rush to pick them up tomorrow."

"I know, Charles, I made the arrangements." She said, then regretted being so short with him. It seemed easy now, to be short and sharp with him, like it had replaced their normal mode of communication. She bit her lip, glancing to the distance and the woods that surrounded the property.

"Yes. You did," he replied, hurt by her tone. "Look, if you'd rather go back inside, we can. I just thought we could try and work out what's wrong."

"I know, and I appreciate that." She sighed. "I think the main issue is we've hardly seen each other, and when we do we're both so exhausted."

"I know I've been working a lot. It's harder than I thought, Robert not being there and Dad having retired."

"I'm not angry with you for working, Charles, you want to provide - I get that, you told me as much when we were only young and hypothesising about being parents. You want to look after your family. I'm not saying it's either of our faults, it's just the way it is. It was easier with Mae in some ways, simpler, but then we were younger and perhaps adapted more quickly to the change."

"Maybe. I do feel that we hardly see each other," he admitted. "I can't remember the last time we had a conversation that wasn't about the girls or whose turn it was to take the bins out or what we need from Sainsbury's."

She smiled, "I guess we've turned into the boring domestic couple. Now we can say things to each other like, 'Hey, remember that time we were wild and did crazy things?' And reminisce about how great it was."

"I don't want to be boring. Let's do something spontaneous."

"You mean like when I convinced you to share a jet-ski and bugger off despite the instructor's warnings?"

"Maybe not something quite that reckless!"

" _You've not completed the training!_ " Elsie said, imitating the instructor from their time in Spain, and they both laughed at the memory. Charles could picture it so vividly it was almost like being back there - the noise of the machine, the waves, the smell of salt on Elsie's skin as she gripped his waist.

They paused when they reached the fence that divided his parents' property from the woods.

"Wanna turn back?" She asked.

"Do you?"

"Not yet, I'm rather enjoying being alone with you."

She let him lift her on top of the fence, sat for a moment with her legs dangling and Charles' arms around her waist holding her safe. When she leaned in to kiss him he was so hungry for her he almost let go and she toppled precariously, yelping and gripping his shoulders and they laughed together again.

They'd both had quite a few glasses of Champagne and only bits and pieces of nibbles so the alcohol had quickly done its job.

She let his jacket slip from her arms and pool around her waist, "You still find me attractive?" She whispered, almost afraid of herself as she said the words, letting one of her main concerns of the moment disappear into the dark night.

"Definitely," he replied. "I've always found you attractive."

"Things have changed, I've changed. I'm not who I was back in that attic, not that student girl anymore. You've changed too. You're more serious now."

"And do you find me less attractive because of that?"

She shook her head, "No. My attraction for you is somehow all muddled up with my love for you, though, something I wasn't entirely sure of when we were young - it scared me, how strong it was. And I do love you, Charles, I love what we have, our life, our children. As hard as it is."

"I know you do. And I love you too. Just because we may have changed, doesn't mean we don't still feel the same about each other."

She drummed her fingers on his shoulders contemplating her next move.

"You remember the times when we used to really… well, our sex life was most definitely sex, primal, and not making love. You remember those nights?"

"Vividly," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

"I remember how you used to talk to me in those moments, the things you'd say - how I belonged to you, how only you could make me feel like that…" she leant in close to whisper by his ear, "it would turn me on so much."

Her words re-ignited something deep inside him and he captured her mouth with his, kissing her passionately as she sat there on the fence, his hands holding her hips tightly.

Breathless, she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly, his eyes wide as he watched her shrug the jacket off completely, fiddle beneath her dress and pull out her bra. Grinning he took both items of clothing and hung them from the fence post.

"Don't forget that," she said lowly, before lifting her legs up, turning on the fence and jumping down over the other side. He watched mesmerised as she took a few steps back into the woods then stopped, staring at him, her eyes bright in the darkness.

He felt, and heard, himself groan as he took in her next movement; the slow rise of the skirt she wore, her hands disappearing beneath, and then the wiggle of her hips as she slipped her knickers down her legs.

"Don't forget those either." She said, balling them up and throwing them back to him.

He watched as they landed at his feet, stared at them for several seconds as his brain tried to process what was happening. When it finally caught up, he picked them up, stuffed them into the pocket on his jacket hanging from the fence and vaulted over. He met her gaze and she felt a jolt of triumph as she saw the predatory look in his eyes - exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

He stalked slowly towards her, his hands working to unfasten his trousers as he moved.

Giggling she backed up against a tree, peeling the straps of her dress down until her breasts were exposed, her nipples instantly tight at the joint sensation of the cold air and sight of her husband pushing his boxers down and setting his erection free.

She moaned loudly as he reached her, his mouth on hers, tongues dueling for dominance.

His hands worked quickly, sliding over her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples until she gasped, and then continuing down, gripping her bottom tightly and pressing her pelvis against his.

"Mmm, I remember liking this part." She said mischievously.

"Me too," he lifted her up, delighting in the mixed sounds of her pleasure and surprise. She curled her legs around his waist as they kissed. "I remember," he panted between kisses, "you enjoying making love," he nudged his nose with hers, "enjoying every second of your orgasm."

"Don't make love to me," she said fiercely, grinding against him, kissing him hotly. "Make me come, I want to feel you." Her hands were inside the back of his trousers kneading his bottom. "I want you."

"Oh God Els! I want you too," he whispered, pushing himself inside her.

She gasped at the quickness of it, gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, "Yes, Charles." She kissed his head, over his face, "I thought you'd gone off me." She said frantically.

"Never!" he growled, kissing her neck and sucking on her pulse point.

"Show me you haven't," she panted, throwing her head back against the tree to give him better access to her neck and breasts. Above her the sky was inky black and clear, dotted with crystal stars. "Show me," she breathed deeply, "make me…"

He pushed his hand down in between them, over the fabric of the dress that was bunched up around her waist, and stroked her, making her buck against him. He continue his assault on her neck, pressing light, quick kisses down to her chest, his other hand kneading the soft tissue of her breast as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Everything inside Elsie seemed to clench at once. It would have been almost embarrassing how quickly he could make her come, but it had been so long and she had missed this, missed him. She needed this more than air. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, a long keening moan escaping. "Oh yes!"

He smashed his lips against hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure as she pulsed around him.

She dug her heels into his bottom, felt him slow his movements, his hips hardly moving at all now as they found a pulsing rhythm that started inside her and moved through into his body. They kissed languidly; her hands in his hair, thighs tight around him. He knew her so well, knew how to wait now, let the first orgasm just ease away leaving her warm and quivering.

And then he'd do it again.

She pulled back from the kiss, her forehead resting against his. "Charles that was… Oh!" She gasped as he began to thrust once more, pinching her nipple as he did so.

"You didn't think it was over, did you?" he teased, whispering in her ear. "We're not done yet, Mrs Carson. Not by a long shot."

Despite the passion of the moment she couldn't help but giggle at his words, "Mrs Carson... I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Well then, I suppose I should tell you how much I love fucking you, slipping inside your hot, wet pussy," he growled.

"Oh god, I'd forgotten you could talk to me like that!" She lifted her legs around him again from where they'd slipped after her first climax. "I want to feel you come inside me," she said firmly, kissing his face repeatedly. "Only you. It's always only been you."

Her words inflamed him, and his hands fell to her bottom, clutching her tightly against him as he sped up, thrusting harder, slamming into her.

Elsie felt almost weightless, his thrusts were so powerful now she couldn't return them, only enjoy it. She pressed her palms heavily onto his shoulders pushing her body up and back; the bark of the tree a delicious contrast to the heavenly feel of him inside of her, the heat between them, the rub of the tree behind her.

"I love you," she gasped into the night, "I want you so badly." She found his mouth again and they kissed hungrily. "You make me feel alive." She mumbled against his lips between kissing him.

"I love you too, Els," he panted. "God I love you so much. Missed this so much. You feel so good."

"So do you, so big," she panted, feeling her orgasm building, "so, so good, Charles, don't stop."

"Noooo…"

"Please, don't…" She looked up to the sky again, then over his head, to the distant lights of the house, the party still going on. It made her smirk with mischief - all the times his mother had worried Elsie was the wrong girl for him, all the ideas she had about her in the early days.

He caught the glint in her eye and instinctively knew what she was thinking. "You're enjoying this aren't you; fucking out here, where anyone could see you. Such. A. Naughty. Girl." He punctuated his words with deep thrusts of his hips.

"I enjoy fucking you wherever we are," she replied - if he could be bad, so could she. "And you love it too." She ground her hips forward, squeezing him inside her.

"Oh fuck!"

"And don't think I'm done with _you_ neither," she said, feeling intensely powerful. "When we get home I'm going to show you just how much I've missed this. Remind you how lucky you are."

The seductive lilt of her voice coupled with his imaginings of just what she had planned for them, pushed him over the edge. "Jesus Els! Oh fu… I'm going to come. Oh. Come with me!"

Suddenly she gasped in shock, pressed hard on his shoulders, "Wait."

"Wha…?"

"Stop. Wait. Someone's there… Charles…." She noted a tall figure moving through the garden towards them, almost at the fence they'd climbed not half-an-hour ago.

"I can't."

"No, stop," she yelped, half in pleasure, half in shock. "It's your… god Charles… your…."

"It's dark. They won't see." He didn't care who was watching, too caught up in his pleasure.

"They'll hear you," she pushed on him again, dropping her legs from his waist, wiggling free. But he was already moaning her name, jerking against her and clearly in the middle of a rather intense orgasm.

Elsie shuddered behind him, shrinking back in embarrassment, slipping down the tree until she was almost on her knees and Charles was shaking violently in front of her.

"Oh fuck," she muttered as the distinct sound of somebody clambering over the undergrowth met them.

"Els…" Charles whispered.

"Oh shit, sorry," they both heard James - Charles' younger cousin - say abruptly. "Erm, sorry you guys, sorry." He turned from them, began quickly moving back towards the fence, tripping once or twice as he retreated.

Elsie shook her head, her cheeks burning, "He'll have thought I was…"

Charles braced himself, his palm high against the tree, catching his breath. "Well, you were the one who moved," he panted.

"Did I want your twenty-year old cousin to see my nipples?"

"Probably not," he agreed. "But forget about him. Come here." He used his other hand to grasp hers and pull her up. When she stood in front of him, he softly pressed his lips against hers, kissing her lovingly. "That was amazing Els," he whispered as he pulled back.

She bit down on her lip, blushing from head to toe, "You think he heard some of the things we said to each other?"

"Of course not, now forget about it." He nudged her nose with his, "And remember how good it felt instead."

She draped her arms over his shoulders, "It did feel pretty good."

"It felt better than good."

"Mmm," she kissed him tenderly, "I love you."

"I love you too. Now, how about we straighten ourselves out, go back to the house, make our excuses and go home."

"Straighten ourselves out?! I think I have your…, well, on my shoe! Which is pretty disgusting actually."

"Charming!" He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

"I can't help it, it just makes me feel a bit 'ew'."

"You never used to say that…"

"I beg to differ," she said, bending to wipe her foot, "remember the first time we dared to have sex without a condom and the… the _mess_ on my stomach…"

He laughed loudly, "Oh shit yes, you were in frantic girl mode, ' _get it off, get it off'_ ," he squealed imitating her.

"I don't think I was quite that silly!"

"Perhaps not. So," he asked cheekily, "is that why you swallow? To avoid the mess?

"Argh! You can't say that to me," she claimed, swiping at him as she got to her feet, "I'm a married woman. I'm a mother!"

"You're married to me, so that means I'm the one person who can say it to you."

"Not if you want me to ever do it again!"

"And there I was thinking you enjoyed it."

"Mmm," she leaned into him, kissing him teasingly. There was something rather wonderful about being like this together again; relaxed, carefree, this back-and-forth teasing. This is how it used to be, when they were young.

She felt him gently lift the straps of her dress back into place as they continued to dress and, oddly, it seemed even more intimate than when she'd pushed them down for him.

"Won't I need my bra?"

"No one will notice if you've got my jacket on." he shrugged, "you've woken the naughty side of me again Elsie."

She smirked, "Does that mean I should forego all of my underwear? Leave you wondering as we travel home?"

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Of course you do," she pushed away from him, sweeping her hair back as she started to walk towards the fence in search of Charles' jacket. "You're a man."

"You were the one who said you were going to remind me how lucky I was…" he said, following her, unable to take his eyes of the sway of her hips as she walked.

"And..." she unhooked his jacket from where he'd hung it on the fence post and put it on, hiding her underwear in the pockets and fastening up the buttons. "...when I'm riding you later you'll think just that."

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